


The Sea Inside - Act Four

by UglyWettieWrites



Series: The Sea Inside [4]
Category: Alec Hardy - Fandom, Broadchurch
Genre: Broadchurch - Freeform, Desk Sex, Drama, Emotional Hurt, Frottage, Gay!Ellie, Hardy x Miller brOTP feels, Heavy Angst, Hot on the case again, Hurt Alec, Indulging the Bulge, Lesbian Sex, Multi, Semi-Public Sex, Tess the Babadook's back at it again, Who is Grace?, dad!Alec, fem!Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-08 17:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10392573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UglyWettieWrites/pseuds/UglyWettieWrites
Summary: After their difficult evening at Daisy’s party, Alec and Grace are still fragile. They make up and even talk of the future, but as ever, someone is around the corner to throw the proverbial spanner in the works. In this case, about Grace's mysterious past.Contains:The Sea Inside - Act Four, Part 1The Sea Inside - Act Four, Part 2The Sea Inside - Act Four, Part 3The Sea Inside - Act Four, Part 4





	1. Act Four, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their difficult evening at Daisy’s party, Alec and Grace are still fragile. They make up and even talk of the future, but as ever, someone is around the corner to throw the proverbial spanner in the works. In this case, about Grace's mysterious past.

He woke with start. **  
**

It was Daisy. He could tell by the silly personalized ringtone she’d set in his cell.

“Good morning, love.” He stifled a yawn.

“Oh my God. You’re still in bed? It’s after eight,” she said, giggling. “It’s a birthday miracle. Usually, it’s you who irritates the sun into rising.”

“Sure,” he said. “Me and Grace got in late last night.”

“Right,” she responded in the same level tone. There were a couple of beats of silence.

“I”m sorry I left without saying goodbye.” He sat up and put on a t-shirt.

“ _Sorry_? Did Grace put you up to that?”

“No. And I am.”

“And the other bit?”

“What other bit?” he scratched his scalp.

“Dad!”

“Yeah, yeah. Finola. Kissing.” He groaned with awkwardness.

“ _Finn_ , dad. And yeah.”

He didn’t know what to say. He looked at his bare feet on the carpet. Something glinted in the corner. His handcuffs.

“How’s Grace?” Daisy’s tone was light, but he knew exactly what she was asking. They had developed a manner of silent communication while living with Tess.

He bent to pick up the cuffs. “She’s okay. Now.”

Daisy sucked her teeth.

“So you didn’t ask her yet?”

“Not yet, no. But I will. Soon.”

“Good.”

He picked up Grace’s brush off the floor and brushed his beard pensively. Did he hit her too hard? Would she be walking around with bruises on her bum all day? He shook the thoughts from his head.

“How’s your mum?”

“She’s alright. Had a bit too much wine last night, Finn and I had to put her to bed.”

“Finn. She spend the night a lot now, does she?”

“Dad, I’m not talking about that with you.”

“And that’s okay wi’ me, believe me,” he said so emphatically she giggled. “It’s just, uh...here I was, worried about boys and you’re not bothered at all.”

“Not at all.”

He bit his lip. “It’s not because of-”

She cut him off quick “-No, dad. I knew I was gay way before any of that. I don’t dislike men. I just like women way more.”

“Wow,” he said.

“Too much? Sorry.”

“Naw. I just remember when you were still a wee lil’ bit, running circles around me kicking a football…” he paused. “Maybe I should’ve guessed then.”

“God, dad. No. Sports don’t make a girl gay. Other girls do.”

He groaned again. “Sorry. It’s just that I’m a detective, Daisy. You’d think I’d be able to pick up on subtle signals of your internal turmoil sooner.”

“S’okay, dad. Even I know love is blind. Also, I didn’t really have much turmoil, to be honest. I felt it and I went with it.”

He shook his head. Was it so easy? He couldn’t remember.

“I do love you. With all my heart. I want you to be okay.”

“There’s never any guarantee of that, dad. But it’s been amazing thus far. I’ll take that.”

He chuckled.

“What?”

“You’re one of the strongest women I know, and you’re not even a woman yet.”

“Awww, dad. And yes I am.”

“Nope. You’ll always be my little girl.”

“Oh, and I’m calling you from my new phone. Do I sound rose gold amazin’?”

“No. Same shit as my crappy phone. More expensive wrapper.”

“Dad!” she laughed. “Then why’d you get it?”

“I told you. It was all Gracie.”

She heard the softness in his voice. “She’s good for you. Talk to her.”

“I will. Today. I promise.”

“Alright. I have to go take a shower. Finn and I are going to the beach later.”

“Then why shower before?”

“Shh. It’s too early for dad jokes.”

“Just saying.”

“Love you, Dad. Call me later.”

“Yeah,” he said, and hung up.

He took the whole weekend off just in case they decided to stay overnight after the party, and now he regretted it. He didn’t like being unoccupied.

He showered and dressed, then went into the kitchen for a cup of tea. The sun shone insistently on his face as it had yesterday. He looked down at himself. Light blue shirt, dark blue dress pants, dusty brogues.

Although so much was changing around him, he did not feel changed. At his age, it felt more agonizing than a relief. He felt almost guilty for being so set in his ways.

Grace had changed everything. He groaned at baby steps.

He dialed her, expecting to leave a message.

“Darling!” The way she rolled her r made him tingle.

“Grace. I thought you might be in surgery.”

“I don’t have anything this morning, so I’m doing some much needed paperwork. Fun starts at 2.”

“Oh, I see. I was hoping I could drop by in a bit. I need to talk to you about something - not bad, but important.”

“Please. I’ve frightened myself with my own efficiency, and I’m nearly done. If I don’t look busy someone will inevitably drag me into doing rounds,” she said. She practiced briefly as an emergency room doctor before specializing in cardiology, and the hospital liked to take advantage of it.

“I’ll see you in a bit, then,” he said.

“I look forward to it.” It sounded like she had forgotten last night’s distress. He was glad of it.

He looked at himself in the hallway mirror before heading out, and made a quick decision. He went to the bedroom and grabbed the sweater she bought him, ripped off the tags, and put in on as he walked out the door.

* * *

He dreaded hospitals.

Even their architectural efficiency cowed him - square buildings, boxes on top of other boxes slowly filtering down the diseased until they were bodies in the basement.

He walked the halls undisturbed, since the shift nurses recognized him. Her office was the end of a long hallway, by the windows. The sunlight only served to accentuate the almost cruel cleanliness of the place. There was a solitary chair by her door where he had once sat, tracing the lines of gloss-painted cinderblock with his eyes and sweating.

He knocked softly.

“Come in!”

She walked around her desk and took him into her arms. “You wore the sweater.”

“It’s sunny, but it’s a bit cold out.” He nuzzled the top of her head, running his hand along the long braid going down her back. He looked around at the haphazard piles of mail and the dying fern in front of the window. “This place is a mess.”

“I know.” She made a face. “I haven’t had time to tidy up in the last week. And that poor plant. A patient gave it to me, bless her heart. She doesn’t know I’m a plant murderer. I was thinking of taking it home.”

“No green thumb, doctor?”

“Both my thumbs are decidedly brown,” she said, holding them up. He grabbed them and kissed the pad of each.

“I’m no better. The plant will be dead in a week.”

She leaned at the edge of her desk. “You know what they say about caring for things. First a plant, then maybe a dog. If I can keep both healthy and alive for a while, then maybe I can try for…” she looked away. “...something bigger.”

“Like what? A horse?”

“Exactly,” she said.

He hugged her tightly, mystified. Was that a subtle suggestion of wanting to have a child? A child! With him?! Daisy was nearly grown. And then then was the other thing…

She broke the hug and sat down on the chair in front of her desk. She crossed her legs and smirked up as he leaned on her desk and crossed his arms, still pensive.

“So this is how your co-workers must feel, looking up at the impassive mug of the legendary detective Hardy,” she said.

He gave her a half smile and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“No, don’t ruin it! You don’t smile at them, do you?”

“I might be legendary, but sadly, it’s for all the wrong reasons,” he said. “And I smile at some.” He thought of Ellie. He had to call her.

“It’s odd. This is exactly the place I first saw you.” He patted the desk.

“You were so gray and careworn and sad,” she said. “But still…”

He looked at her. “Still what?”

“You were nothing like I expected,” she said carefully. “So many men try to hide their fear behind something or someone else. They don’t own it. You gave me one look and it was on the surface. Extraordinary how people get it so wrong.”

“Get what wrong?”

“There had been some rumors about you, and how you’d ruined the case you worked on. About who you were as man. It took me only five seconds to know for certain that they all had it wrong. I can’t say how, I just did.” She stood up and started to pluck dead leaves off the fern. “I’ve seen evil. Greed, cowardice, lust.  I saw none of those things in your eyes.”

He looked down at his hands.

“There was an agony you tried to hide very badly. Desperation. Need. But no evil.” She stopped herself when she noticed she was plucking at healthy leaves.

“I wanted to run out just as soon as I came in,” he said. “I didn’t quite expect... you, and I was already so exhausted. But I’m glad I didn’t request another surgeon.”

“You were gonna request another surgeon?” she said, surprised. “Really?”

“Oh yes,” he said, crossing his arms again. “You spoke about seeing so much in one look. So did I. Enough to make me want to run.”

She gave him a puzzled look. Regardless of their hours upon hours of shared secrets, it was news to her.

He opened his arms to her and she walked into them.

“You were so matter-of-fact. Professional. Reassuring. But I could see through it. Something in the eyes, I suppose. With what I was going through, with Tess, then Ellie, I was hypersensitive to it. And it was overwhelming. I was drowning.”

“You knew?”

“I can say it’s my job to know, but that would be a stretch. I was convinced I was going to die. No matter how careworn and gruff I might’ve looked, my heart was wide open. I took in everything, since it could be the last time. And you blew right in.”

“Ooh, that came out sort of poetic,” she said, looking up at him.

“Completely by accident. And yeah, you are lovely,” he said, dragging out the last word. “That gray skirt thing and the blouse with the bow. Och,” he said, nuzzling her cheek. “Ye damn near killed me right then.”

“Skirt thing?” Her eyes closed at the pleasurable prickle.

“With the things at the bottom that made your bum look like a heart when you bent over.”

“You mean, the buttons?” she said.

“Those,” he said, kissing along the line of her jaw.

She giggled. “You mentioned thinking I was quite attractive, but can you believe that it never crossed my mind that you would perv over my bum? You were so serious.”

“I was tired, and scared, and hurting, but not dead.”

She rubbed the nape of his neck. Her cheeks warmed. “I didn’t quite know why then, but I called in every favor I was owed and I owe several still to place the pacemaker as soon as possible. I’m still adjusting to this country’s medical system, but I swear I would’ve called Candace and and Nadi and done it myself if they gave me shit,” referring to the anesthesiologist and a radiologist. “The suspension would’ve been worth it.”

“A medical outlaw. It would’ve been a bit much to be ordered to arrest you even before the anesthesia wore off.”

She shrugged. “The look on your face as you felt your steadily beating heart again would’ve been worth it,” she said, nuzzling the place on his chest, underneath his collar bone, where she had implanted the battery pack. “You went from gray to pink so quickly. It was like watching you bloom.”

She didn’t mention the fact that her desperation came from the knowledge that any additional stress could tip his tired heart into massive arrhythmia, and death. And he refused to drop the Sandbrook case. The thought wasn’t linear in her mind at the time, but beyond a medical responsibility, she didn’t want him to die because she wanted to know more about him.  

She slid back down on the chair and looked up his body slowly. Long legs. Deliciously slim hips. Broad shoulders. He had gained weight since the surgery, and he looked fantastic. They traveled back down beneath his belt buckle, where his worn pants strained.

“What?” he said, needlessly insecure.

“You need new pants, baby,” she said, biting her lip. “I’ll go to the shops tomorrow and get you some things.” She smiled at him, then her gaze fell between his legs again. He looked heavy and warm. Intensely inviting.

He waved his hand in irritation. “I’m not a toddler. I can buy my own clothes.”

She stood up and walked between his legs, pulling up his sweater and cupping him gently in her hand.

“I know, Alec. That’s not why,” she said, rubbing him to life.

He tensed. “Jesus, Grace! Not here.”

She walked to the door, locked it, and leaned against it, looking up his body yet again. “What else did you think the first time you saw me?”

“That’s it. Your skirt. And your, uh-” he cupped both hands on his chest, “-you were covered, but that just made it better. You looked so soft. Then, it meant everything.”

Then, when everything else was hard. Claire. Tess. Ellie. All seemingly cold and impenetrable as granite.

But he didn’t say it out loud.

Her gaze made sweat drip down the sides of his body. It was still a wonder to him that she found him so attractive as to look at him with frank lust. Right in the open. Without him asking, or worse, begging, for the attention.

She walked to him and pulled the sweater over his head, then chuckled when she saw the wetness under the arms of his shirt.

“Why so hot, Hardy?” she said, pressing her breasts against his chest. She looked at him through unpainted lashes. Even with nothing on her face besides sunscreen, she was painfully beautiful. Her dark eyes had a cat’s eye glow in the sunshine coming in through the window. He’d never noticed that. His lips parted.

She slid down his body, hands tugging gently at his shirt. It gaped a little between the buttons, showing skin. She slid her tongue into one of the gaps, swirling it on his belly. He gasped, surprised.

“See? Too tight,” she said, landing on her knees in front of him. He started to unbuckle his belt, but she put her hand over his. “Not yet.”

She moved her hands to his knees and squeezed lightly. He bucked and sighed a precursor to a giggle. She squeezed her way up his thighs, then bit over the material pulled tight against them. His muscles jumped beneath.

“That tickles,” he finally said.

She squeezed the top of his thighs rhythmically, thumbs caressing the tempting bulge under his fly, until he began to move his hips. Again, he tried to unbuckle his belt.

Again, she stopped him.

“No.” She shook her head and squeezed, then stroked around the solidness underneath. She put her mouth where her hand had been, breathing her heat on him. He let his head fall back, but he put his hand on her chin and tipped her face up.

“If you’re gonna do it, then do it before I come in my pants.” He rubbed her wet lips with his thumb.

“I thought you said not here,” she said, sucking his thumb in a way that made his eyebrow rise. She went back to rubbing his cloth-clad erection with her mouth, groaning when she felt the outline of the crown of his cock near his belt buckle.

He cursed. “This isn’t - I’ve never-” His hands trembled on her shoulders.

“You’ve never what?”

“This. What you’re doinggg-” he moaned as she squeezed the head of his cock through his pants.

She stood quickly and put her hand over his mouth. “What d’you mean? This?” She cupped his balls through the cloth and rubbed him. Her pussy throbbed.

“Not even as a teenager?” she said, continuing her steady caress. The cloth was hot and damp with her saliva. She wanted to make it wet.

“Especially. Not. As a teenager,” he said, and shivered as she unbuttoned the button over his chest for access to pinch his nipple.

“What a loss,” she said. She pulled him around the desk and pushed him into her chair. It creaked loudly. She giggled and pulled down her scrub pants. She wore a pair of pink cotton panties with tiny white polka dots. The lace trim hugged her ass, which jiggled deliciously as she kicked her pants aside. She bent over her desk, wiggling her bum in front of his face.

“Do you like them?” she said, looking at him from over her shoulder.

He was mute. His eyes went to the door.

She reached between her legs, working the cloth into her cleft until wetness made it darker. She found and rubbed her clit over the cloth, pulled it tight on herself so he would see the bud pressing on the fabric.

He whimpered. His knuckles were white, squeezing the arms of the chair.

“Do you?” Her breath was shorter.

He darted forward. His hands went underneath the leg holes to squeeze her ass. He tried to bite the wet cloth aside, but she pulled him away by the hair. He looked confused.

“No, Alec. Over the cloth. Kiss it.”

He pouted a little, then put his mouth over her pussy, actually sucking in her scent and heat. She moaned softly into the crook of her elbow.

He touched her, pressing, rubbing, until he clearly saw the outline of her swollen folds through the cloth. Her clit was a nub underneath the now slick fabric. He’d never done anything like this. Ever. Tess wasn’t one to accost him in public. He thought that it was for the best - he had fined and silently judged many couples caught shagging out in the open when he was a beat cop - but this.

This was worth getting arrested for.

He licked the wet cloth, then sucked her, biting her ever so gently to tease her into swelling even more. She sighed above him, and her legs trembled.

Would she mind if he rose, unzipped his pants and sank into her? He wanted to with every cell in his body, but he didn’t want to ruin her game. He liked it.

He licked the slick crease between her thigh and her cunt lips, then pulled the cloth taut again and licked her cloth-covered clit. Her swollen cunt begun to swallow the fabric, and although he did not pull harder, he licked and waited as the cloth slowly disappeared between her lips…

She turned around and straddled him. He felt her warmth against him almost immediately. She was flushed, sweating. She pulled her scrub top off to reveal a white mesh bra. He could clearly see her dark, erect nipples poking through it.

She pulled him close. “Suck. Over the cloth.”

He squeezed her ass and licked, then sucked a mesh-covered nipple. She poked her fingers into the gaps in his shirt over his belly. He knew she wanted to tear it.

“It has to make it to the flat in one piece,” he whispered between her breasts as he squeezed her nipples. Her hips moved over him. There was friction and heat, but no wetness. It was torture.

She leaned into him and positioned herself so they rubbed perfectly against each other. He grabbed her ass. She grabbed the back of the chair and began to grind, looking in his eyes.

“This feels so good,” she said. _Good_ turned to a moan that she stifled in his open mouth. He kissed her deeply, sliding his hand down the crack of her ass to touch her. She pulled his hand away before it reached her asshole, kissed it, and quickened her rhythm. Her mesh covered breasts bounced near his face.

Heat seepedg through his pants and underwear. Fuck she was wet.

“I want inside you,” he whispered.

She put his hands on her thighs. “I want to come like this.” Her hips gyrated eagerly over his erection. She wet him enough so he could smell her now. She pressed her forehead against his. Her breath was hot and sweet on his face. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and ground into him from chest to hip. Her thighs and calves were taut with the rhythm. Her feet, socked but unshod, were en point on the carpeted floor, pushing.

He was surrounded by her.

“This..is it,” she said, panting into his face. “How it feels.” She smiled with closed eyes and bit back a moan he felt in her belly muscles. His hand moved up her back and stopped at the nape of her neck. It was slick with sweat.

“What?” he said softly.

“You. Almost. But not. Completely-” her breath hitched, a warning. He kissed her, willing to swallow her moans once she came.

His own impending orgasm was clouding his head. What did she mean?

“Hmm?”  he said, sucking her lower lip.

“Here. But not-” she reached between his legs and pulled his shirt out of his pants. “Not yet. Not until-”

She bit his lip hard as her hips bucked into him. More wetness spread on the front of his pants as she came, pulsing so hard he felt it under layers of cloth. She slid off his lap, unbuckling his belt and unzipping. She was licking her lips to suck when the doorknob rattled.

She jumped up, red and wide-eyed.

“Doctor!” the knock was insistent. “There’s been a biking incident. Although it’s no longer an emergency, we could really use your expertise,” a female voice said.

She shook her head apologetically at him.

“Yes! I will be out in a minute, exactly!” She took off her panties and dried herself, then put on her scrubs. She looked around, then stuffed them into his pocket. “Be a love and throw these in the laundry bin, will you?” she whispered, then kissed him quick and hard. She looked down at his throbbing erection and bit her lip. “I will make it up to you, baby,” she said and sprayed some air freshener over her head. She looked in glass of the framed Egon Schiele by the door, patting down her hair and shrugging at her flushed face.

 _Oh well_ she mouthed to him as he zipped and buttoned. He looked down. He looked like he’d almost pissed himself. She pointed at his discarded sweater. _Drape it over your arm and over your crotch._ He moved quickly as she opened the door. The intern leaned against the opposite wall, her face mild.

“Let’s go,” Grace said, walking ahead with purpose. The intern gave him one look, then hid her smile with her fist as she followed.

* * *

He hid in her office until his erection went away. He was blushing furiously, since at least three nurses got the urge to try to chat him up on his way out. He blurted out something about a police emergency and nearly ran back to the car, convinced they knew everything.

He slammed the door and panted lightly. It was a little after noon, and he hadn’t eaten a thing. There was a heaviness in the pit of his belly, but he knew that was just unspent desire, not hunger. He looked down at his ruined pants.

Never in his adult life had he ever been in a situation like that. It happened to teenagers, not 45 year old men with heart conditions and graying temples. He jumped and threw the sweater over his crotch when someone walked by and got into the car next to him. The person gave him a strange look, turned on the car and drove away.

He felt silly. What if they saw his sodden pants? Did he expect his mother to give him a talking to for frotting with loose girls? He shook his head. His teenage years had been marked by intense unfulfilled lust and angst. No girl rubbed anything of his until university, and it had been awkward at best.

But Gracie…

He felt himself begin to swell again. He pressed the ignition button and pulled out of the parking lot before he got any more novel ideas about public sex acts.

* * *

The phone rang in the cabin of the car. He pressed the button on the steering wheel.

“Ellie.”

“If it isn’t the stranger,” she said. “How the fuck are you?”

“Fine. Lovely. You?” His tone was sardonic.

“Don’t be a twat. Why haven’t you gotten back to me? You’re the last on the list. Seriously, it’s ridiculous,” she said, but her tone was light. He could tell she missed him.

“I’m so sorry. I meant to give the invitation to Gracie, but it slipped my mind. I’ll do it when I get home.”

“Oh no you’re not. I’ll just tell Mel you did, she’s OCD about things like that. So...seafood or lamb?”

“Lamb. I hate seafood.”

“And what about Grace?”

“Hates it even worse.”

She chuckled. “And living in a coastal town. Both of you are hopeless. It all makes sense,” she said. He could hear her scribbling something. Freddy giggled somewhere near - she must be in the living room watching TV.

“How are the boys?”

“They’re doing well. Tom is being a little shit lately, but it’s to be expected with the hormones. Either way, he’s getting solid as an oak and _handsome_ ,” she giggled again. He smiled.

“And Melissa?”

“A dream,” she said, sighing like a teenager. It was so good to hear her happy - happier, in fact, than she had been when she thought she was happy with Joe. “She’s great with the boys. Freddie’s more in love with her than I am.”

“That’s good.” It had been difficult at first to deal with Ellie’s resistance since it made no sense to him, but the first time he had seen her and Mel together, it had all come together for him. It had helped to ease his aching heart that she had found what she needed in her. He wondered how he would get over it...until he went to the dreaded appointment with his new cardiologist.

Just as soon as he had seen Grace, one pain had been replaced by another.

“Oh, Daisy called me this morning.”

“Yeah?” Daisy loved Ellie - she was like family.

“When are you gonna ask her, Alec?”

“Oh no, not you too,” he said, his brow furrowing.

“Don’t you start with that grouchy shit. Of course, me too. When?”

“I was with her just a bit ago. Didn’t get a chance to talk, though.”

She chuckled. “Really now?” she laughed. He heard her talking to her boy. “Freddie, darling, go and get mummy a goody bar. The one with the chocolate and peanut butter.” Small feet pattered away.

“Look at you. Afternoon delight and all,” she said, keeping her voice low. “You planning on staying overnight for the ceremony? I can get you both a room at the Trader instead of staying with us. You can make as much noise as you want there.”

He rolled his eyes. She was incorrigible.

He groaned. “Don’t be coarse, Ellie. Grace is looking forward to spending time with you and Mel.”

“Just saying. I have kids.” Her voice trembled with mirth.

“And? What do you and Mel do then?” he blurted out.

“Ball gags and lots of pillow biting,” she said frankly. His eyes bulged. Grace and Ellie were cut from the same cloth when it came to not having a filter. Freddie ran back to her side. “Thank you, sweetheart! Give mummy a kiss.”

She put her phone on speaker. “Say hello to uncle Alec, love.”

“Hello, uncle Alec! Miss you!”

He jumped. The boy had leaned into the microphone and yelled it.

“Hello Fred. Are you behaving for your mummy and Mel?”

“I love Melly!” he said. His feet pattered as he ran away, calling her.

Ellie took him off speaker. “It’s not because of the babadook, is it?” she asked, using her nickname for Tess.

“Of course not. We’ve been divorced for nearly four years. It’s none of her business.”

“Ah. Well she does have a way of making things her business, even when they’re not. You gotta slay that dragon, Alec. Emotionally, I mean.”

He was tempted to tell her what had happened at Daisy’s party, but he remained silent. He didn’t want to relive it.

“You sound so much better, anyway. Give Grace my love.”

“Sure,” he said.

“Ask her, Alec,” she said, and hung up.

* * *

The smile on his face broadened.

He was so, so lucky to have so many amazing women in his life. Daisy. Grace. Ellie. Even Melly, who took such good care of Ellie, Fred, and Tom. It was serendipitous how her and Ellie met, since he had been the one to vet her to the higher ups as the interim DI while he recuperated from his procedure. She was strong, extremely sharp, and oddly, according to anyone who had ever seen them in a room together, the female version of him.

Grace, then Daisy had openly admitted it after meeting her. At first he had thought it a cruel cosmic joke - Ellie acting suddenly besotted by the tall, lanky woman with straight dark hair and intense eyes. For a while, he felt insecure, like he wasn’t enough, even for Ellie. He had convinced himself that serendipity had brought him and Ellie together - it was what had given him the courage to confess his feelings. When she had acted so taken aback, he was confused.

Something was off. It was Melissa. That’s who was meant for her, and he had called her, brought her to Broadchurch.

He shook his head.

And it had been another call by Ellie to the NHS that had changed his appointment time, and his assigned cardiologist.

Serendipity indeed.

It made his head spin. If he had not come to Broadchurch, he wouldn’t have befriended Ellie, who helped put him back together and solve the case that had nearly killed him. He wouldn’t have finally found the wherewithal to fix his heart. Bring Melissa. And most importantly of all, find Grace.

He turned the corner into his street and tapped the brakes.

Tess’ car was parked across the street from his flat. He was tempted to keep driving, but she got out of her car. She had seen him. He parked carefully and squeezed the steering wheel, stilling himself.

He’d had such an amazing morning. She rapped on his window with her key.

“Took you awhile. I’ve been waiting over an hour and a half.”

“Why didn’t you call?

“I did. Three times. You didn’t answer,” she said. He looked at his phone. She had called. Once early in the morning, and twice while he was in the office with Grace.

He swore she had a sixth sense, because she seemed to ascend out of the second circle of hell to hound him when she felt he was content. He didn’t like thinking that way of her, but after the divorce, distance had made him see her as she really was. He had been patient nonetheless, protecting Daisy from the worst of it, but Daisy was clever and very strong. She saw.

“The phone was on vibrate and I was out. What are you doing here?” he asked, squinting up at her. “It’s a three hour drive.”

“We need to talk, and sadly, we weren’t able to do so last night,” she said, her hand on her hip.

“Right. You could’ve tried calling, leaving me a message.”

“With how well that works with ye? Naw. And this is something I’d prefer to discuss in person.” She walked to the steps, then back when he didn’t follow.

“Aren’t you gonna get out of the car? I’m not gonna stand out here and talk to you on the pavement,” she said. “This is isn’t the estates. Nearly,” she said softly, looking around. A young man rode by on his bike.

He clenched his jaw. He didn’t want her presence polluting Grace’s - well, their - apartment. But he couldn’t stand outside. And she had driven three hours to speak to him. He stepped out of the car and moved quickly up the stairs. She stared at him as he typed in the keycode for the door. He climbed the stairs silently and pressed his forehead against the cool apartment door as she climbed the last flight of steps. He was screaming internally.

“A walkup to boot,” she said, panting as she stepped inside. Her sharp hazel eyes darted from Grace’s bright red trench coat, to her paisley rainboots in a tub lined with smooth river rock, to the red upholstered sofa in the sitting room decorated with her carefully chosen art prints. The wings of her nose flared at the scent of the oil diffuser she put on the cabinet by the door, beside the key bowl.

 _Naff_ her face said, but mercifully, she didn’t utter it.

He sighed and walked into the kitchen. He needed tea.

She crinkled her nose at the italian copper splash guards, and her glossy bright purple le Creuset dutch oven on the range.

Tess much preferred white tile and steel. She wasn’t a fan of color, on or in things and people. Anything that outshined her was utter shit. Perhaps that’s why she had tolerated his melancholy shades of blue.

He poured steaming water over the teabag. “You want a cuppa?”

“No thanks.”

She walked around the kitchen and started opening cabinets.

His eyebrow rose. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“A bloody drink,” she said.

“We don’t really keep anything here unless we’re having people over,” he said, lying with surprising ease.

“That’s stupid,” she said. “How about a glass of wine, then?”

“Nope,” he said, pulling the teabag out with his hand and adding milk to the cup. He added a spoonful of sugar.

“You take sugar now, do ye?” she said. “She’s changing you in mysterious ways.”

He leaned against the counter and blew into the steaming cup. “So what brought you all the way here?”

“Daisy.”

“Oh?” He sipped.

“First, she drops that bomb at the party last night. Of all things I thought I’d have to worry about. My daughter, _a lesbian_ ,” she whispered it. “And with that little mousy thing, too. Shit.”

His grip tightened on the mug.

“And this morning, I heard her talking to her friend - after I had expressly said no more sleepovers - about a conversation she had with you last night.” She looked pointedly at him, both hands on her hips now. The sun shone through her fine curly strands and to her scalp.

“And?”

“What d’you mean, ‘and’? Come on, Alec! It’s all well and good that she wants to go to university relatively close to home, but moving in? _With you and Grace_?” her face twisted with disgust.

“You’re in her home, Tess. Have a little respect.” His head was starting to hurt, which meant his blood pressure was up.

“Her home. Isn’t it yours too?”

“Yes, of course-”

She cut him off.

“-did she tell you what she asked me last night?”

He closed his eyes. “No.”

She smirked. “Whether I missed you,” she said. The same sunlight shone through her top. Her bra was clearly visible. At one time, it would’ve made him miserable with desire. Miserable because she would’ve laughed at his boyish lust and left him aching. Now, it was distasteful.

He was surprised.

“Yeah. She’s not dumb. She saw what we had. Daisy. A home.”

And now he was thoroughly confused.

“That you dismantled because you were, and I quote, ‘unhappy and bored out of your mind.’ Not that it matters anymore. That’s over.” He didn’t mention the affair. Or _affairs_ , as he had found out during the course of the divorce. She had not apologized once. He had spent 14 years with his nose to the floor, kowtowing to her whims. For nothing.

“You should’ve heard your daughter go, Alec. Saying she was sick of my vacuum of happiness. That she was surprised Graham hadn’t left sooner-” she bit off the last bit of the sentence.

“I noticed he wasn’t at the party.” Graham was her latest boyfriend, as the man she had been cheating on him with during the Sandbrook trial had been only a casual thing. Graham was a lawyer. They’d met during the divorce proceedings.

Serendipity at work again, he thought.

“He moved out a month ago,” she said.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. He was a twat. He said he wanted a real family, not the leftovers of someone else’s. What’s worse? Daisy was on his side!”

“Jesus,” Alec said.

“He wanted to marry me, move away to Scotland. Wants me barefoot and pregnant while he starts his own practice in the ass end of the world. Why the bloody hell would I do that? I have a career. I’ve already done the marriage and kids thing. I love Daisy, but no thanks. I want my own life now.”

“But it’s always been about you,” he said, putting the tea down.

“Someone had to take the reins of the marriage, Alec. And you seemed okay with it.”

“That’s my cross to bear, and I let it go.”

“As ever, I had to make the first move. _I_ let go, Alec. You insisted. Stayed. Don’t make me out to be a villain because I had the balls to move on.”

Before, those words would have had him in bed for days, ill with sorrow. Her eyes searched his face for signs of distress, then drifted down his body. Her eyebrow rose, then she let out a giggle.

“When the cat’s away…” she said, and laughed. “Oh my God, I can’t bloody believe it.” Her giggles turned full fledged laughter.

He bit. “What’s so funny, Tess?”

She was bent over, red-faced and teary eyed. “And you judged me. What a world.”

He walked to the sink to pour out his now cold tea, and she grabbed his hips and turned him forcefully. She pointed at his groin.

“Been apprehending prozzies while the wifey’s cutting people open?” she said, looking up at him.

“What?”

“It’s a very familiar stain,” she said, grazing her knuckle where Grace had rubbed against him.

 _Shit._ In his agitation, he had completely forgotten. His dark blue pants had very suggestive stains from waist to thigh.

He put his hands in front of himself, then walked to the bedroom. She held the door open before he could close it. He grabbed a pair of gray slacks and walked to the bathroom. He kicked off pants and underwear, fuming. Her panties fell out of his pocket and sat in a still-damp ball on the floor.

He wanted her out. Out of his home, and out of his life.

He walked out and she was sitting on the bed. Their bed.

“Don’t do that,” he said, taking her by the elbow.

She ripped out of his grasp and bounced on it. “And? Dirty your sacred...what? You haven’t married her. She’s not wearing a ring. In any case, your present condition explains it. I didn’t think the idyll would last long anyway.” She got up and walked to her vanity.

“Get out. We can talk in the sitting room.”

She ran her fingertips along her perfume bottles, making them click against each other. She picked up a gold tube of lipstick, opened it, and cringed at the red.

“Grace Lastra. Born in Springfield, Ohio, USA on November 20, 1982 to Soraya and Frank Lastra. Graduated Judith Resnick High School with honors, then went to the University of Chicago where graduated magna cum laude in chemistry, then on the George Washington for medical school...etcetera, etcetera, _etcetera_.”

He remained poker faced, but his heart felt like it was about to burst. She was a horror of a human being, but one of the reasons he respected her was because of her investigative skills. She could find Hoffa, if she really put her heart into it.

She turned to look at him, giving him a poisonously slow smile. It had no mirth. Her eyes glimmered.

“You have a thing for lost causes, don’t you? You can’t resist ‘em.”

“I think it’s time for you to go, Tess. We can talk later. I’ve got things to do, and you didn’t consider that when you came here.”

She held up a thumb drive. “Don’t you want to know who your perfect little princess really is?”

He snatched it from her hand and threw it in the trash. “She already told me.”

Her smile didn't falter. “Everything?”

“Yes.”

She shrugged. “Then you’re a far more understanding man that I thought you were. I suppose that’s why she doesn’t mind you playing around with other sluts. Some kind of whore’s code.”

“Okay, get out.” His lips disappeared in a grimace of fury. “Now, goddamit!”

She walked calmly to the door and turned to look at him. A smile played on her lips. “I always knew you were weak, Alec, but this is a step too far. My daughter is not going to consort with a filthy hooker, even if you choose to.”

She ambled out, sated.

* * *

He shook so hard he had to lean against the door.

Hooker?

He slid to the floor and hugged his knees.

Why would she say those things with such confidence?

It was hard to breathe.

She said there was a man, during medical school. Her husband, turned abuser. She left him. He turned to a stalker, threatened to hurt her. Succeeded. That’s why she eventually changed her identity and moved overseas. Cut and dried. He had seen the documentation.

_A whore._

Impossible. It made no sense. She is a doctor. She saved his life.

He walked back to the bedroom and sat on the bed.

Tess couldn’t be right. Grace would never lie. She had never lied to him, even at the cost of looking bad. She told him about being a chubby kid. About her nose job in her 20’s. About her Adderall abuse in medical school. All of it.

He took her pillow and hugged it, taking in her scent.

Tess had fucked up royally with the Sandbrook evidence, but she was one of the best sleuths in the country. That’s what she did now.

And she had researched Grace.

His sweet Grace. His second chance. The one who healed his heart, both literally and emotionally.

But Tess was sure. And she would tell Daisy once she spoke to her about the move.

He stared at the little trash bin by Grace’s vanity, where the black usb stick lay on top of some used tissues.

Tess would use the information to hurt, and humiliate, and destroy. He couldn’t allow it. Not again.

To save his daughter, he would have to break his own heart.

He plucked it from the trash and plugged it into his laptop, his vision already doubling with tears.


	2. Act Four, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Tess’ fateful visit, Alec looks to Ellie for moral support and understanding. With her help, he finds the courage to take a closer look at Grace’s past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mentions of various sex-related crimes and copious angst. If these things are triggering to you, please proceed with caution.

Ellie’s phone rang out and went to voicemail. 

 **Oy, this is Ellie. You know what to do**  

“Ellie. Call me back as soon as you get this. I’m headed over now.” 

* * *

**Interlude**

The phone didn’t even ring on the other side.

“Yes?” it was a smooth male voice. Although the call was encrypted and the screen read ‘unknown caller’, he knew exactly who it was.

“I’ve found some unusual activity.”

He man chuckled. “Is that so? Took long enough this time.”

“Yes. For the last three years, there’s been the usual traffic - interpol and police agencies local to the case, but I just saw some activity from the UK. From Northern England.”

The chuckle turned to a full-throated laugh. “And?”

“Login is  t.henchard at a local constabulary. Tess Henchard, a D.S.  She googled the case, then did some serious digging around. Looks like she found things, too. More than the other one. Way more.”

“Of course she did. Silly bitch. She doesn’t know with whom she is fucking. But she’ll soon find out. Thanks a bunch,” the man said in extreme good humor, then hung up.

“Do what you do best, little bird,” he said out loud at the walls. “Fly.”

The girl sleeping beside him stirred. “Is everything okay, baby?” she said. She lay her head on his chest. She was young. Painfully young.

“Just peachy, honey,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “And getting better. Now up you go. We have somewhere to be.”

 

* * *

His voice was gruff with tears, and he realized she would hear it. Oh well. Broadchurch was only an hour and a half away from his and Grace’s town, but he didn’t want to show up at hers pinched and miserable and surprise her.

He watched the sun set again, but the colors did not inspire. Instead, they mocked. He thought he finally had his life together. Yet here he was, nauseous with sadness and running, again.

It was a far too familiar feeling.

He looked at the dashboard clock. 6:23 PM. Ellie would most probably be preparing dinner for the children. He didn’t know whether Melissa was also home, but he hoped not. He wasn’t up to her also asking questions that were too painful to answer.

He took a deep, shuddering breath. The car still smelled like her. Like both of them. The phone rang. He pressed the button in his steering wheel.

“Ellie.”

“Oh God. You sounded so serious in the voicemail. You were doing ever so well this morning.”

“Where are you?”

“Home, of course. Mel’s here too.”

He groaned.

“What’s wrong?” She was serious now.

“Tess. She was waiting for me at my house. She had some information about Grace. From before she came to the UK.”

“For God’s sake, why did you let that woman in your house? Crazy bi-” she stopped herself before she swore in front of Freddie. “And?”

“She brought a USB stick. And she, uh...” he couldn’t quite catch his breath. His eyes burned with salt.

“Yes?”

“She called Grace a whore. A hook- _a hook_ -” the word stuck in his craw. He couldn’t get it out.

“I would’ve snatched her hair right off her head. Did you look at it?”

It burned a hole in his pocket. “I couldn’t.”

“Ahhh,” she said.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he said. His voice wobbled dangerously.

“You did, actually. How far out are you?”

“I’ll be there in about 20 minutes.”

“Perfect. We’re having shepherd’s pie. Your favorite.”

It really wasn’t, but it was the only food Ellie had ever seen him eat with any enthusiasm.

“Be careful,” she said, and hung up.

* * *

He pulled into her driveway behind Mel’s Skoda. Summer was coming, and the climbing roses were growing so thick that he couldn’t see to the door. The plants were heavy with buds.

Oh, the memories.

She emerged from the greenery and made him jump.

“I was waiting for you. Come in,” she said, her lips tight with sympathy.

“Unka Alec!” Freddie shrieked happily. He latched onto his leg and jumped up and down. Alec bent down to give his curly head a pat.

“How’s my main man Fred?” he said, holding out his hand for a high five. Fred gave it a resounding slap. Something spattered on his face.

“Oh no, Freddie! You’ve still got finger paint all over your hand,” Ellie said, giving him an apologetic grin. She handed him a kitchen towel. He wiped red from his hand and face. His pants had a tiny red handprint he would have to wash off.

Tom was watching TV in the living room. He looked up at him and nodded. It was a rare acknowledgement, for him.

“Come into the kitchen!” Ellie yelled. He took a deep breath and walked in. Mel was on the desktop by the garden window, her glasses perched low on her nose.

“Melissa,” he said, nodding at her.

“Alec.” She gave him one look then went back to whatever she was doing on the computer.

“Sit,” Ellie said, pointing to a small table by the computer. She put a glass of red wine in front of him. “Dinner will be ready in five.”

Ellie flitted around the kitchen, chatting happily as she took out dishes and set the table as if nothing was wrong.

Her curly hair was in messy ponytail, and she wore a dusty blue top that only accentuated the healthy rose of her cheeks. She put down a bowl of salad in the center of the table, then the steaming casserole.

“Salad?” he said.

She scrunched up her nose. “Mel likes it, and now she’s got Tom eating like a rabbit.”

“He’s a wrestler, love. It’s good for when he needs to cut weight in a healthy way,” Mel said.

“Right, then. Tom! Freddie! Supper’s ready!”

They ran into the kitchen and sat down before she finished pouring them juice.

“Those are my boys.” She sat down and looked at all three of them with love. “Who wants the crunchy corner bit?” she said,  digging into the pie.

* * *

Dinner was difficult. As lovely as everything was, he couldn’t swallow. Even the wine was bitter to him. Ellie kept up a steady chatter, with Mel occasionally adding a decorative word or two. The boys ate quickly, had seconds, then begged to be excused.

“Go on,” she told Tom. He disappeared and ran up the stairs three at a time. “And remember to wash before you get in that bed!” His bedroom door slammed.

She turned to Alec. “His sheets get frightful. I forgot how smelly boys are are that age. I suppose I didn’t notice, since I was most probably smelly too.”

Mel cleared her plate and kissed the top of her head. “Nonsense. You’ve always smelled like flowers.”

They waited in silence as Mel cleaned up around them and poured them each another glass of wine.

“It looks like Tom’s postponed his shower. I’m gonna give Freddie a bath and get him ready for bed,” Mel said. Her eyes drifted to Alec’s sallow face. In a rare show of affection, she patted Alec’s shoulder as she walked out.

He waited until she climbed the stairs with Freddie before speaking.

“Did you tell her?”

“A little.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Just the bit about the USB. She heard you were upset, and it’s all over your face. You look like a ghost.”

He dropped the drive on the table. “Here it is.”

“And you really didn’t look?”

His jaw tightened. “I couldn’t, Ellie. I’m scared.”

“Of what, exactly? You know her, don’t you?” she said. It was still on the table. “Don’t you trust her?” Her tone was not judgmental. After all that she had been through, she had no room to do so.

“I do. Ellie, she wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Then why didn’t you throw this back in her smug little face?”

“Because Tess is very good at what she does. And she acted like she found something.”

“About the abuse?” Ellie knew about Grace. At least, what Alec knew.

“No. Beyond that. She kept using these terms.” He tried to say them, but his mouth refused to form around the words.

“Alright, I’m not having any more of this shit,” she said. She plugged it into the desktop. He sat silently, facing her so he couldn’t see the screen. Ellie understood, and nodded. He trusted her with his life.

She clicked on it and her eyes scanned the screen. There were a couple more clicks. She scrolled quickly, her brow furrowing more deeply as she moved down whatever she looked at. She clicked into something else. Her eyes widened.

“Oh no…” she said. Her hand went to her mouth. “Shit.” She clicked in and out of things faster and faster. Her big brown eyes filled with tears. “God.”

He was drowning. He jumped up, ripped open the back door and ran into the garden, but he couldn’t make it past the trellises. He panted, bent double with his trembling hands on his knees.

Oh Jesus. Not again. Not lies. Not her.

He looked back and saw her, still going through whatever was on the drive, her skin pale blue in the screen light. He teetered into a garden chair. There were no stars, and the sky was orange with impending rain.

He looked down at himself. Fred’s red right hand marked his leg.

Just this morning, she alluded to children. She said she would’ve risked suspension or even arrest to make his heart beat true again. He ran his fingers through his hair and bit back a sob.

He heard something behind him. It was Ellie. Her characteristic smile was gone. Her eyes were red.

She sat down by him and put her hand over his, steadying his shaking. “Let’s go back inside. It’s about to pour down.”

“Ellie…”

She squeezed. “Come on. Inside.”

They walked back together to the computer. She shut the door and pointed to the chair. “Sit.”

“I don’t think I’m ready,” he said.

“If you truly love her, no amount of time would make you ready,” she said.

He sat down. On the screen, there was a mug shot of a dark man. He had Grace’s cheekbones. Or better said, Grace had his.

 _Carlos M. Zamora_ the mugshot read. He had a sensual mouth and heavy-lidded amber eyes. It made him sick. He looked up at Ellie.

“Keep going,” she said.

He was currently serving 25 years for sex trafficking. There was mention of child pornography. Possession with intent to sell class B drugs. Assault and battery. Rape, multiple counts of it.

His chest burned.

Grace had once offered to tell him her real name, but he had told her no after the things she confessed to him. He was his Grace. That’s all that mattered.

But her real name was Clara.

“Clara,” he said out loud, reading out the name of the last victim who had accused him of sexual assault. She had dropped the charges, stating that she lied because she was ‘angry at her father’. The rape kit showed evidence of recent vaginal and anal sex, but it was not forced, and there was no semen - he had used a condom.

When asked, she said she had a boyfriend. She didn’t volunteer any additional information, and since the girl was 16, they did not investigate further.

If they had, they would’ve quickly discovered that her ‘boyfriend’ was Dr. Frank Lazone,  a 37-year old family physician and amateur photographer.

His mug shot, although unflattering, did not change the fact that he was an incredibly handsome man. His temples were graying, but he had the thick-lashed, clear-skinned, cut-jawed look that wreaked havoc on the hormones of young women.

“Fucking Frank!” he said, popping up. “Bloody hell.”

“What?” Ellie said.

He sat back down and hunched in front of the screen.”Her ex-husband. She told me about him.”

“Apparently, they married shortly after the charges were dropped. She was 16.”

His face twisted with disgust. “Daisy’s older than that, and she’s still a child.”

Ellie looked over his shoulder. “He colluded with Carlos by seducing underaged girls - runaways and sex workers he found during his extensive charity work in the community - and offered them money to perform live sex shows for an exclusive audience, usually in closely guarded private venues.” she read softly.“Clara was originally implicated as a lure, but after intense questioning by police and psychiatric professionals, it was determined that she was, in fact, just another victim, made even more tragic by the fact that her father used her in his live shows since the age of 13.”

“Jesus.”

“In later questioning, Clara admitted to not remembering all the circumstances surrounded her servitude in her father’s business. She did remember that she was the top draw due to her experience. She said that her husband never let her perform with men -”

“Stop. Please.” He rubbed his eyes.

“Regardless of her unusual home life, Clara possessed above average intelligence, and enjoyed school. She graduated with honors a full year early, then attended the University of Chicago. She would still occasionally perform, but once she entered medical school, she confessed to Frank that she no longer wished to do it, and filed for divorce. Shortly after, she was raped so brutally-”

“I said stop!” he yelled, getting up and running to the powder room nearby. She heard him retching and coughing.

“Ellie.” Mel whispered from the top of the stairs. “Everything okay?”

 _Not even close_  she mouthed, biting her lip.

“What’s going on?” She went down the stairs and hugged Ellie, rubbing her back.

“Grace. Oh my God, poor thing,” she said, burying her face in the crook of Mel’s neck.

Tom cracked open the door.

“No!” Mel said.

His door slammed shut.

Ellie’s hands were fists on Mel’s crisp white dress shirt. “I need to see about Alec.”

“But are _you_ okay?” Mel whispered in her ear. She was intensely protective.

“This is not my pain, Melly,” she said, wiping her eyes and looking up at her. “But he was very good to me. You understand, right?”

Mel’s jaw tightened, but she nodded. “I know.” She caressed her. “Maybe he should stay here with us for the night. I’ll prepare the sofa in a bit.”

“I’ll ask,” Ellie said. She offered her lips for a kiss. Mel didn’t drink, and she tasted like berries. Ellie leaned into her, eager for more. She always helped her forget.

She gave Ellie a final squeeze and let go. “I’m gonna go check on Freddie and get ready for bed. I’ll be down in a bit.”

Ellie tapped gently on the bathroom door. “Alec?”

He moaned.

She tried the door and it opened. She looked in. He sat on the toilet, looking at his hands. His pallor was nostalgic. It frightened her.

She leaned against the sink and stood by him, silently, for a few minutes, but it was maddening.

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

Ellie was afraid to say anything. She feared saying the wrong thing.

“Sex parties. Since she was a child. _For her father._ How did she not run away, tell someone?” He grimaced with horror.

Tears dripped off her chin. “It, um…”

He looked up at her. His eyes seemed to glow in the pale skin around them.

“Her mother was another of those girls. She was 14 when she had Grace-Clara. She died shortly after childbirth due to infection, per Dr. Lazone’s report,” Ellie said.

He pulled at his hair.

“He’s all she ever knew. Him. Frank. The girls. Maybe, she didn’t want to run away. Maybe she loved her father.” Ellie’s words were stilted, difficult to spit out, but he had earned her honesty. “You once told me that people are unknowable. I don’t think you could’ve guessed, or even believed it was so horrific. And maybe, just maybe, she might’ve not told you not only out of shame, but to guard you from it. She loves you, I know. And it’s obvious you would not have taken it well.”

He started to weep again. His body trembled with sobs that he tried to bite back unsuccessfully. She put her hand on his back.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. Tears fell freely from her eyes, but she refused to weep. She put her arms around him and let him cry. Her chest ached with second-hand sorrow. She wondered whether he had felt like this with her, after Joe.

If so, she was sorry for every time she refused a hug, or a sympathetic word.

His tears wet her neck. She plucked a towel from the rack over the sink and handed it to him. He rubbed it on his teary-red face and hiccupped. She sat on the floor opposite him, hugging her knees.

“Grace is lovely, but she’s fragile. It’s hard to believe all that happened before. How does she function?”

“By getting out of bed every morning, then putting one foot in front of the other,” Ellie said. She spoke more of herself than Grace.

He noticed and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry for bringing this here to you. But I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “And it’s obvious that she’s not nearly as fragile as you think.“

He looked at her, then nodded slowly.

She stood up. “But what about you? Isn’t she going to wonder when she gets home and you’re not there?”

“There is a reason she didn’t tell me everything. Look at me. What will she think? I won’t be able to keep it from her.”

“Then you’ll have to find a way. Tess is life-sucking cunt. Maybe if you explain what happened-”

He cut her off. “-Oh no. She will spin out. That won’t work.”

“Then pretend.”

“I can’t.”

Mel knocked softly on the door, then looked in. “I fixed up the sofa bed for you. You shouldn’t drive in your condition.” She was customarily frank.

“Okay,” he said.

“I’m gonna get you something to sleep in,” Ellie said, and stepped out.

Him and Mel stared at each other silently. Mel was nearly as tall as he was, and just as serious. He walked past her and into the living room.

* * *

Ellie dug impatiently in Mel’s bureau for something to give him. Mel put her hand on her shoulder.

“For fuck’s sake! You’ll scare the life outta me,” she said, picking out dark blue pants with tiny ship’s wheels on them and a clean white undershirt.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Ellie looked up her long, shapely legs and tugged on the hem of her shorts. It was hard to believe she hid such beauty in baggy dress pants every day.

“This is horrible, Melly. I can barely stand it,” she said, hugging the clothes to her chest. “Are the boys okay?”

“Tom’s hiding in his cave which is his MO, and Freddie’s sleeping the sleep of the just,” she said, helping Ellie to her feet. “They’ll be fine.”

“Alec’s a mess. It’s hard to look at.”

She hugged Ellie again. The scent of sorrow clung to her, and it made her frown. “Give him the clothes and come back up quick. He most probably needs time alone more than anything.”

“Right,” she said. “Would you like something from the kitchen when I come back up?”

Mel climbed into bed, giving Ellie an enticing view of her ass. “No. Just yourself.”

* * *

She found Alec loosening his tie in the dark. She went to flick the lights on, then stopped. 

“Here.” She threw the clothes on the bed beside him.

He shook his head and lay back.

“You’re not sleeping in those dirty street clothes in my house!” she said, surprising herself by nearly yelling. As hurt as he was, she refused for him to regress into where he had once been.

He raised an eyebrow, picked up the bundle and went into the bathroom, returning with his face washed and his street clothes folded in his arms.

“When does she get off?” she asked.

“Midnight, barring an emergency surgery.”

She looked at the digital clock by the television. “You should call her so she doesn’t worry.”

“Right,” he said.

“If she doesn’t believe you’re here with me, gimme the phone. I’ll set her straight,” Ellie said, trying to be funny.

“As if she’d be afraid I’m with another woman,” he said.

“Don’t be down on yourself, Alec. Lots of women are into grouchy and thin,” she said, tugging on his beard.

“But I just want her.”

“Then _ask_ her,” she said, referring to their previous, much happier conversation. “Talk it through. Anyway, I’m going upstairs. I’ve been up since quarter past six this morning with Freddie.”

She was climbing the stairs when he whispered loudly.

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For being kind.”

“Nonsense. And you better be here when we get up in the morning. I won’t have you slipping away without saying goodbye,” she said cheerfully. She winked at him.

He nodded and gave her a rusty smile. “Night.”

“Get some rest,” she said, and went upstairs.

* * *

Ellie took a quick shower. She refused to lay down with Mel with Alec’s tears still drying on her skin. She tried not to think, but more than anything, she wished she could scream. Why was it that their pain seemed so inescapable? It was a mystery to her.

She dried herself off and rubbed lotion into her skin pensively. Regardless of the fact it hurt, she was glad that he had trusted her enough to share something so sensitive. It was almost as if the universe had made things flush between them. Their lifelong friendship was sealed.

She stepped softly across the hall and into their bedroom. Mel was doing some reading. Although she loved technology, she refused to read books on her iPad. “Books are sensual things,” she said often. “I want to feel them, smell them, turn the pages as I experience the story. It’s all a part of the pleasure.” She was a delicious mix of salty and sweet that intensely attracted Ellie from the first moment Alec introduced them.

It had taken months to settle into the fact that the warmth she felt whenever she and Mel spoke was desire and not admiration, and even longer to admit it to anyone. Mel was openly gay, but so serious Ellie feared she would be horrified if she admitted her attraction, since she was her boss.

Instead, she had sought her with a tenacity that still made her blush.

She shrugged off the flowered robe and crawled under the covers. She didn’t bother Mel - she didn’t like to be interrupted from her reading unless it was an emergency, but Mel put the book on the bedside table and took her into her arms, kissing her hard enough to take her breath away.

“Oh my God,” Ellie said, pushing her away. Mel’s hands traveled down her body to her ass, cupping, then squeezing.

She moaned into her neck. “I want to be _here_ ,” she said, her long fingers going between her legs from the back and into her pussy. Despite her heavy heart, she coated Mel’s fingers with wetness. “Did you lock the door?”

“No.”

Mel rose and did then, then took off her clothes and threw them on the floor. Her small breasts bounced as she crawled between Ellie’s legs. Her nipples were already hard. The hair between her legs was deliciously dark against her pale, flat belly.

Ellie’s mouth watered. Even after two years, it wasn’t even close to getting old. She still felt the same almost dizzying excitement at the sight of Mel.

Mel yanked the sheet off her, wanting to bury her mouth between Ellie’s legs, but she pulled her up, wrapped her long legs around her waist and sucked her nipple, swirling her tongue on her tiny pink areola then biting it.

“Ellie…” Mel said softly, but her hungry mouth just moved up to her neck to suck on the firm flesh there. She pushed her on the mattress and spread her legs. There was red on her breasts from her eager sucking, and a red spot bloomed on her long neck.

Ellie bit her lip and looked at her, feeling her heartbeat increase. Although she had lost her virginity at the normal age and had sex the normal amount of times, nothing could top the exultant desire she felt when she looked at Mel. Just looking at her aroused her more intensely than full sex had ever done before she came along.

Perhaps it’s because she had always been bisexual, or maybe it was just Mel. She didn’t know. And she sure as fuck didn’t care.

Mel’s eyes settled between Ellie’s legs, where her hand moved, very slowly. Ellie’s soft belly jumped with the sensation. She sometimes liked to touch herself, warm herself with her own thoughts before they made love. Mel had learned to love it. It made her feel desired in a way no other woman had made her feel. If even the sight of her made Ellie long to touch herself, what did it say about her touch?

She wanted no one else.

Mel spread her legs further. Ellie licked her lips at the expanse of smooth thigh, and what lay between.

“Come here, honey,” Mel said softly, crooking her finger. “Taste me.”

Ellie lay on her stomach and rubbed her lips on her thighs. First one, then the other, and then between them until Mel’s wetness made her cheeks and chin slick. Her musk made Ellie groan, but she did not taste. She wanted to feel her for a bit - the silky wet hair and her hot flesh - so hot, and getting hotter.  

Mel tried to rub her own clit, but Ellie bit her finger and moved it away.

“No. Mine.” she said, and spread her open. She was pink and wet. Her own lips tingled with blood to kiss, but she only slid her hand between her belly and bed and touched herself as she licked clean the wetness that that spread to Mel’s thighs.

“Unfair,” Mel said, looking at Ellie’s ass, which jiggled as she ground her hips against her hand.

“Very,” she said, and sat up. She hooked her leg around Mel’s and sat until their pussies touched. Ellie’s eyes rolled back.

Mel giggled. “Oh come on. You know that fake lesbian porn shit doesn’t actually feel good,” she said. “Don’t be a tease. Not tonight.” She caressed up Ellie’s thighs, and rubbed her belly. It was her favorite part of Ellie’s body - soft and silky and inviting. Ellie’s nipples hardened with the caresses. She gently tugged on one. Mel’s lips pursed to suck, but Ellie was between her legs.

“I like the way it feels anyway,” Ellie said, rubbing her own naked cuntlips over Mel’s. “You’re so wet.” Their lips actually made wet kissing sounds against each other. Ellie’s cheeks were flushed. She gave Mel a wicked grin. “Don’t you?”

She loved the silky roughness of Mel’s hair rubbing on her smoothness. She twisted her hips and one of Mel’s lips slid between her own. She moved back and forth slowly, rubbing her swollen clit against her.

Mel tightened underneath her. “Oh. This is new.” She put a guiding hand on Ellie’s hips and looked between her legs. Their shared arousal wet Ellie nearly to her belly button. “Shit.” She longed to lick.

“Uhuh,” Ellie said, moving her hips in quick little moves over her. She felt the pinpoint heat of Mel’s clit on her flesh and moaned. She rode her slowly, just enjoying the wetness and the movement, and pinched Mel’s nipple between her fingers as she squeezed her breast. She was so firm - she had never and would never have children, would never nurse. She had been self-conscious about her own fuller, softer breasts until the day Mel had touched her. A suck, a squeeze, and a groan later and she never doubted her appreciation.

The flush rose on Mel’s cheeks as well. “Honey, I want you,” she said, but she didn’t stop her gyrations.

Ellie moved to get something from the bedside table drawer. It was a bullet vibe. She lifted herself off Mel and pressed it into herself. She was so wet her pussy swallowed it easily.

Mel smiled. “That’s good for you, but what about me?”

“Hush,” Ellie said, and turned it on. She gasped, then settled back between Mel’s legs. Mel rubbed on Ellie’s swollen clit with the pad of her thumb as she moved over her. “Do you feel it?” Ellie said, throwing her head back.

“No not really.”

Ellie pulled on the little cord that connected it to the remote.

“Wait-” Mel rose to her elbows, her brow furrowed. “There. I feel it now.”

Ellie began to move her hips in slow circles over her. “Good.”

Mel exhaled forcefully. She grabbed Ellie and ground her hips into her. Her thigh and belly muscles tensed with the effort.

“Is it pointless now?” Ellie said, caressing down Mel’s belly. It was slick with sweat. Mel rubbed herself against Ellie’s vibrating flesh. Her toes curled and she whimpered.“You’re a sucker for a vibrator.” She pressed her pussy hard against Mel’s. Soon, she mewled softly and twitched with orgasm, but she didn’t fall back to the pillows.

She pushed Ellie to the bed and wrestled her way between her legs.

“I’m gonna lick you clean then make you wet again,” she said, pulling the vibrator from inside her and sliding her tongue in its place.

Ellie was greenapple tart and Mel’s fingers bruised Ellie’s thighs in her eagerness but Ellie loved it, she loved the touch of pain with the pleasure because it felt more real. Her wet pussy slid so easily against Mel’s chin, and her tongue finally flicked over her clit but she didn’t lick, she sucked until it felt like Ellie’s swollen flesh could fill her mouth.

Ellie curled into herself and panted. Mel could taste she was close, that sudden burst of sharp sweetness, but she flipped her on her stomach and bit the firm flesh of her ass, then raised it. She shoved her arm under her hip and slid three fingers inside her, curling them to catch her g-spot with every thrust.

Ellie bit her lip to quiet her moaning, but Mel pumped harder, biting the tender flesh right below her hairline at the nape of her neck. She bucked her hips over her Ellie’s ass so her fingers went in as deep as possible. Ellie tightened around her in warning and Mel increased her rhythm. She wanted Ellie to wet the sheets. Although it was just her fingers wrapped in her heat she felt it everywhere - her nipples her mouth her belly her pussy - and she found herself suddenly close to coming again. She groaned in her neck.

“Go ahead,” Ellie panted.

Mel ground the palm of her hand on Ellie’s clit as she fingered her, deeply, knowingly, until she trembled underneath her. “You first.” She licked the shell of her ear and moaned.

“Bloody hell,” Ellie said under her breath, and squirted copiously around Mel’s fingers, squeezing around them so tight it she could no longer move them. She mewled into the bed as Mel rubbed every last spasm from her, then turned on her back. Mel lay beside her and plucked her orgasm hard nipples, then licked. Her areola tightened again on her tongue.

“Oh no. If you keep going I won’t be able to keep quiet. You’ll have to wait until the kids are out.”

“You know, we fuck more during the day then at night. I’m running out of excuses to pop out randomly during the day at work.”

“You’re the boss, you can do what you like. And until you, I didn’t know I was a screamer,” Ellie said, pulling on Mel’s short thick hair. “I don’t want to traumatize the kiddies. They’ve gone through enough,” she said, becoming suddenly serious.

Mel stopped teasing and took Ellie in her arms. “It’s not about us, is it?” she said.

Ellie kissed the tip of her nose and shook her head. “Never. They love you. Some things are just difficult to forget, especially when people refuse to let you.” She spoke of the sometimes still suspicious town folk. But she refused to leave Broadchurch. She had grown up there, found love there, and she wanted to die there after growing old and wrinkly with Melly.

“I want to help you. I will. Every day, just a little.” Mel kissed Ellie’s still sweaty temple. Their shared scent ensconced them, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

* * *

Alec turned yet again on the uncomfortable sofa bed.

He couldn’t sleep. How could he? He looked at his wrist watch. It was after midnight. She was most probably driving home right then, expecting to find him in his usual place in front of the window, reading.

After the last 24 hours they had shared, she wasn’t going to take him being gone well.

Sweat made his scalp itch. Ellie’s house had the smells of all love-filled houses with children - cooking, clean sheets, and flesh-warm stickiness of spilled juice on baby flesh.

_First a plant, then maybe a dog. If I can keep both healthy and alive for a while, then maybe I can try for something bigger._

She wanted the same thing Mel and Ellie had - not just a flat, but a home. What he and Tess had tried, and failed at so spectacularly.

He looked up at the stains on the plaster ceiling.

He dreaded the time when he would have to tell her that Tess had talked him into a vasectomy over a decade ago, but now, along with his own reservations of starting another family at 48, it was not the biggest of his worries.

Could she handle it? Be a mother, when she never had one of her own?

His unconscious mind boiled and hissed underneath his thoughts. He loved her, but the woman he fell in love with was a careful construct - a front for who she really was.

He felt horrific for thinking it, but it was true. She was not just a victim of a sudden and vicious crime. She was trapped in her horror of a life for years and years, since she was young. And although she had escaped, her mind could still be in the same place. It was the difference between a tornado and a category 5 hurricane.

Rain began to plink against the parlor window. He rose quietly and walked out the back door, sitting down at the same chair he had mourned in before. He lifted his face, letting the fat drops hurt his cheeks and shoulders. Hot tears leaked out of his closed eyes, making the cold rain warm.

His phone buzzed insistently on the sofa bed, twice, then quieted.


	3. Act Four, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With her visit to Alec, Tess sets off an explosive cascade of events that will change the lives of everyone involved.

Clara stared at her phone uneasily. In the time they’d been together, Alec had never been away without explicitly telling her he wouldn’t be there when she got home.

She took off her scrubs and went into the shower.

Anxiety began to eat away at her, but she tried to drown it in the warm water.

He had never been inconsistent or secretive. They might’ve called him in to work. That’s all. He would call back soon enough with his apologies. She would forgive him and go to bed and feel silly for being insecure…

A faraway pain brought her back to the present. She had rubbed her belly raw with the loofah. She dropped it and turned off the water.

She sat down on the toilet, still dripping. He didn’t even text. Surprisingly, he had turned into an inveterate texter. He over texted his excuses when he couldn’t make something now. 

But there was no text. No quick, awkward message where he never fails to mention how much he hates voicemail.

Nothing.

She walked to the kitchen, still nude. Some of the cabinets were open, and the sink was sticky and brown with spilled tea. Alec’s. There was only one mug, though. She closed the cabinets and walked to the bedroom, sniffing the air.

It was excruciating, but it was habit. She looked at her vanity. Her high end lipsticks, which she usually lined up neatly on the table, were moved. Her Dior red was thrown in the middle of the table, still open, ruined.

Her face twitched.

She turned on the lights and looked around. The bed was still made, but that didn’t mean shit. She caressed the sheets, but her eyes searched them for stains.

_It’s impossible. We did something last night. And this morning. Alec is eager, but he couldn’t possibly -_

Something mint green and gauzy caught her eye. She hated green, and refused to wear it outside of scrubs. She stood stock still and let the inevitable wave of pain wash over her heart.

She closed her eyes. She wanted to scream. To cry and throw all the pointless trinkets of her new, better self against the wall.

Instead, she calmly picked it up. It was a watercolor scarf, hand painted by the looks of it. Silk. Her nose flared.

And it smelled exactly like Tess.

She fell to sitting, bunching the scarf in her trembling fists.

After everything, Alec allowed that woman in their home. In their bedroom. The insecurity she felt while in Tess’s home flooded back. She had asked whether she missed him. She understood why a woman like that would lie, but not him.

Had the party had knocked something loose in him that he thought he’d buried years ago?

Did he prefer Tess’s casual coldness to her silences? Had she frightened him away with the allusion to a family of their own?

She screamed each question louder and louder in her head, until she was a rocking, crying mess on the floor.

Tess’s smug face blinked more and more clearly in her mind’s eye. Even after all this time and suffering, he still loved Tess best. She had been just a placeholder, someone to warm his bed during his despair.

_I keep telling you, little bird…_

Frank’s voice cut through her anger cleanly. She went into a cold sweat.

_Trust no man. None except me._

“Nooooo,” she said out out, putting her hands over her ears fruitlessly.

_I hurt you, but that’s because I love you. And love hurts, little bird. It hurts like the dickens._

She stood up and started to recite the same nursery rhythms that her case worker had taught her so many years ago to calm herself when she felt she was going to have an anxiety attack.

Mary mary quite contrary how does your-

_They hurt you, little bird_

-how does your garden grow/with silver bells and cockle shells -

_But you can hurt them right back. Just like Daddy taught you..._

She forced her breathing to slow. The pain was settling in, something she had been able to block out when Alec had her well in hand...but he was gone.

_He was not here. He was with her._

Her tendons sang with tension. There was once a time when she would not have gone running when someone hurt her or tried to hurt someone she loved. Daddy hadn’t only taught her to fuck. He’d taught her to fight.

She dressed slowly, putting on the white sundress that Alec loved so much. She raked her fingers through her damp hair, then dabbed some of the ruined red lipstick on her trembling lips.

She grabbed the bat she hid behind her door in case of intruders. The metal was cool and heavy in her hands, comforting. She caught sight of her reflection in her vanity.

Her eyes were huge and dark, her face red with a fever she had not allowed herself to feel for years. Rage started to bubble up through the cracks in her that not even Alec had been able to heal.

“Alec,” she said softly. His name was still a benediction to her. Her eyes settled on his clothes, well worn and monotone, in her closet. The new shoes she had gotten him that he refused to wear because they were ‘far too chi chi’. His ties, draped on the chair by the door by her bras. Her face twisted with agony.

It was all just an idyll. A dream. None of it had ever been real. Only the pain was real.  Her palm creaked against the bat’s rubber grip. She looked at a framed photograph of her and Alec that he had given her for Christmas. She was so happy. Already, she couldn’t remember the feeling.

She swung the bat in perfect form - she’d loved baseball as a kid - and the glass shattered. The frame bounced on the wall, leaving an ugly dent. She walked to where it landed and hit it again, and again, and again until the silver dented and the photo was completely destroyed. Tears streamed down her face, blinding her. She swung freely, hitting the lamp on the bedside table. It crashed and went dark. She walked to the framed art prints on her wall. De la Tour’s Magdalene shattered to nothing. The Vermeer girl that Alec complained followed him with her eyes. Botero’s version of Mona Lisa, which had made her giggle the first time she saw it. She broke them all, then the other lamp. She walked into her closet and took handfuls of clothes and threw them in the tub. All the pretty things Grace loved. Especially the gray skirt with the buttons. She picked up her bottles of perfume, stalked into the bathroom, and poured every single bottle - hundreds of pounds’ worth of perfume - onto thousands of pounds’ worth of clothes. Her heart rate increased. She went into a bathroom drawer and took out out a box of matches.

Grace would burn by her own hand. It was fitting.

She lit the match and threw it on the alcohol-doused clothing, and it went up like a bomb. Her eyes watered and her lungs stung but she watched it burn until the tub was a black crater of ash. By then, the smoke detectors were going crazy. She opened the windows, but the neighbors had to smell it by now, and they would call the fire brigade.

She picked the watercolor scarf off the floor, tore it in half, and wrapped it around her bleeding knuckle. Red bloomed through the layers of pale green. She slung the bat over her shoulder and grabbed her keys, leaving her purse and phone behind. It was lies anyway.

She put the bat on the passenger’s seat. She heard sirens from afar, and drove in the other direction to the nearest fast food joint for a cup of strong coffee.

She had a long drive ahead of her.

* * *

Alec went back inside when the cold became unbearable. He tried to be silent, but his sodden pyjamas squished with each step. He walked to the bathroom and took them off, then tried to dry himself with a couple of Ellie’s hand towels. He crept like a pale wraith to where his street clothes were folded and put them on quickly, then wrapped the blanket around himself to stop his shivering.

As maudlin as it was, a good cry had really helped to clear his mind. It was not Clara’s fault that she had been born into such evil. And even though she had chosen not to tell him the uglier bits of her past, he loved her deeply, and understood.

Or better said, he would try. Every day.

“Clara,” he said out loud. “Clara Zamora.” He saw her face behind his closed eyelids. Heard her infectious laughter. How strong was she if could still laugh like that, after all she had known?

Tess had once told him that any woman worthy of the name has secrets. At the time, he didn’t think twice about it, since his love for her was still new. Only later did he realize exactly what she meant. Mystery, even pain, was alluring to a man like him. Why else would he have insisted with her after he caught her being unfaithful? Or insisted with Ellie, after her despair with Joe?

She was right, and she had seen it on Clara. That’s why she knew exactly how to pluck it, then researched her so thoroughly.

Tess was a clever monster.

He didn’t let anger overtake his sadness. Tess didn’t have to know that she had affected him, and Clara - Grace - didn’t have to know that he found out about her past. For her, he could keep the secret, and love her until she was ready to tell him, if it ever happened.

If not, he was completely okay with it.

He watched the rain on the window backlit by the floodlights in Ellie’s neighbor’s driveway. His eyelids drooped. He shifted position, and something dug painfully into his hip. He grabbed it and it vibrated - his cell. He squinted into the screen.

There were two missed calls and one text, all from Grace.

**Where are you baby? I was looking forward to your prickly kisses xx**

His eyes watered. He dialed her personal phone, eager to hear her voice, but it went straight through to voicemail.

“This is Doctor Grace Lastra. If this is an emergency, please dial 999. If not, kindly hang up because I most probably won’t bother with this message.” Then, a giggle.

“Ugh, I hate these. Darling, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you - I’m at Ellie and Mel’s house. Had a bit of a minor emergency, but everything’s alright now. I’ll be back tomorrow morning. We can go to the shops together. For the trousers, remember? I love you,” he said breathlessly just as the phone beeped in his ear.

He texted her as well.

**Actually listen to the messages this time, baby. I love you.**

He put the phone on the coffee table and yawned. The crying had made him sleepy. He turned on his side and hugged the pillow.

Just a few hours, he thought, then slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

The firemen were ready to bust through the door, but they found that was was already open. They stomped into the apartment in full gear and found nothing but smoke and ruins.

“Jesus Christ. It’s like someone had a crackin’ row in ‘ere,” one of them said, lifting up the oxygen mask. Another fireman walked up behind him after checking the bathroom. He held a charred glass perfume bottle.

“It looks like he might’ve caught her cheating,” he said, eying the horribly dented frame. The couple in the photo was nearly indistinguishable. He had seen damage like this before. It had all the classic signs of a crime of passion. “There’s no one about, though. Whatever happened, whoever they were, they’re gone.”

Glass crunched underneath their heavy boots. One of them knelt and took a closer look at the off-white carpeting. “Looks like blood, mate. I think we might have to notify the police, just in case.”

The other one got on his two-way. “Could you get me the lease-holder’s name and number, please? Give them a ring. And notify the local police. This place is a wreck, and we just found blood.” He turned to the other fireman crawling over the detritus. “Alright, boys, you best feck off. We might be ruining valuable evidence.”

They grumbled and walked single file out of the apartment. One of them put his hand up.

“You hear that?” A phone rang somewhere close.

“Sounds like it’s coming from the parlor,” another said.The noise was coming from a woman’s handbag. “Over ‘ere.” He took off heavy gloves, and looked at the screen. The number was familiar.

“Fiona?”

“Aw, bollocks.” It was the dispatcher, trying to call the owner.

“Yeah, looks like she left her bag and mobile here,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Can we get a bead on the man in the photo?”

“On it, boss,” a younger one yelled. He walked outside, where a very worried man stood with his arms crossed. “You the landlord?”

“Yes. What’s the damage?”

The fireman’s eyebrows rose. “There’s some moderate damage to the bathroom, but it’s mostly soot.”

“Was it their fault?” he said.

“You should wait until the police come by and have a look. They can answer your questions far better than I can, sir,” he said. He took off his helmet and threw it in the back of the truck.

“Bloody hell, he _is_ the police. Where is he?” he said.

“Who is?”

“The bloke who moved in with Dr. Lastra - been there about... four months now. He’s a DI for the local police. Hardy, I think ‘is name is. A sour-faced fucker,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know what she sees in him.”

“I’ll let the captain know. Thank you for you assistance,” he said, and walked back into the building.

He ran into the captain in stairway. He was headed down, talking into his two way.

“I just spoke with the landlord. He says a DI Hardy lives there with Dr. Grace Lastra.”

“I got that from the post. Fiona just called the station. They have someone coming, but they are also calling DI Hardy. Apparently, he took off from work on the weekend. He didn’t say why, though.”

“A doctor and and DI,” the younger fireman said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t seem...right.”

The captain hoisted off his oxygen tank and shrugged. “I’ve been in the fire brigade for 20 years, and one of the first things I learned is that fancy titles don’t mean shit to raw human nature,” he said. He took off his heavy fireproof jacket. “Either way, it’s a police problem now.”

* * *

His phone rang him awake.

He jumped up quickly - he set it so it was always loud and clear when work called.

“DI Hardy.”

“Where are you?” the dispatcher said with no preamble.

“I’m at a friend’s home, about an hour and a half away. What’s going on?” He grabbed his tie and put it on. It was all muscle memory now - he didn’t even think about it.

“And Doctor Lastra?”

“At home sleeping, presumably,” he said. He felt a chill.

The young woman sighed.

“What is it, for God’s sake? It’s-” he looked at the phone screen “-2:19 in the morning.”

“There’s been a fire. Nothing too-”

He nearly dropped the phone. “Oh fuck, is she okay?”

“-Sir! Sir!” she was yelling into the phone. He ran up the stairs and knocked on Ellie’s door insistently.

“Ellie!” he said in a tense whisper. He heard her groan. Bed springs creaked and she opened, her hair a poofy tangle.

“Jesus, Alec, what now?” she said. Just as soon as she saw his face, the sleep flew from her eyes. “What is it?”

“There’s been a fire. At my apartment-” He put the phone to his ear again, and winced. She was still yelling, trying to get his attention.

“-I’ve been trying to say-”

“Is Grace alright? Jesus Christ, is she hurt?” he said, his voice going higher with despair.

“-that she’s not there, sir. We have DS Pravhati there now. Her bag and mobile are still at the scene, but she’s gone. ”

“What d’you mean she’s not there? I have confirmation she got home safe two hours ago.” Ellie went into her walk in to dress. Mel put on her robe, her face steely with annoyance.

“I’ll have him call you just as soon as he finishes questioning the other tenants-”

“-No. You will have him call me _now_. The very instant you hang up.” He put on his suit coat and combed his fingers through his hair. It was still damp from the rain.

Ellie came out, dressed in a gray suit. She ran the brush blind through her curls and tied it up.

“Where are you going, Ellie?” Mel whispered as she put on socks and shoes.

“I’m going with Hardy,” she said, going into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Tom’s door opened.

“What’s with all the damn noise, Mum?” he said.

“Watch you mouth, young man,” Ellie said through foam. She spat and rinsed and gave him a smile. “Normal police drama,” she said. He scratched at his bare chest.

“But you and Hardy don’t even work together anymore,” he said, perplexed.

“Didn’t stop me before,” she said and gave him a quick kiss. “We’re a good team. I’m off.” He rolled his eyes and went back into his bedroom.

“Miller!” he yelled from the bottom of the stairs. The front door creaked open.

Mel grabbed her elbow. “Ellie, I’ve got a bad feeling about all this. Just...let him go. Stay here with me. I sleep best with you.”

She took Mel’s hand, kissed her knuckles, then went after Alec.

He didn’t like to wait.

* * *

She drove through the sleep-silent streets, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. Soon, Tess’s white bungalow with the hydrangea bushes underneath the parlor window came into view. She let out a shuddering breath.

She had made a three hour trip in an hour and 45 minutes. The needle had gone past 120 miles an hour more than once, but miraculously, no police had been snoozing by a radar.

She didn’t cry a drop since getting in the car, but it also felt like she had not blinked. Her corneas ached, but her vision was catlike.

She brought the car to a silent stop at the mouth of the driveway.

She spent the whole drive fighting back the overlapping waves of anxiety, anger, and despair, but now that she’d arrived, she couldn’t feel him. She opened the door and sniffed the air. Her dark eyes flashed gold.

Nothing.

She looked down, and she gripped the bat firmly in the hand still wrapped in Tess’s scarf. She hissed and pulled it off. It drifted to the concrete. Her car - a shiny gray SUV with the brand new transmission she bought - sat in the driveway. The house was dark. The windows blinked blindly in the street lights.

Her grip loosened.

_She was in my home. In my bedroom._

Her mouth filled with bile.

_She came into our home._

Still, she hesitated. Grace - she had a nice life. And a lovely man.

But after everything, he was the one who let her in. To the bedroom where they made love just hours before. Where she dropped her tacky scarf doused in her stinking perfume.

Yet Grace could survive. She’d gone through far worse.

She took a step back. Her bare feet slapped on the concrete. She looked down, surprised. She forgot to put on shoes. There was something written into the concrete underneath her foot.

 **Tess + Alec** with a heart around it. Inside, as well, was the imprint of a tiny hand, and a date. **Summer of ‘04**.

Tears dripped from her chin to the pavement. They had once been a real family, something she’d never, ever had. Even with the bitterness, who’s to say there wasn’t still love left? Could she blame Alec if he wanted to be with the mother of his only child? Why else would he have let her in? All that talk of poison meant nothing if he kept drinking her in. Could she, of all people, blame him?

She knelt and leaned heavily against the bat. She was in agony.

Alec was the sunbeam eaking through the cracks in her dark room. He was the promise of love, and normalcy.

But now, he hurt more than years of abuses piled on abuses had ever hurt. She shivered. He’d become the torturer to give her sweet relief, just to turn the screw even tighter.

She stood, teetering. The bat’s metal sung as she dragged it beside her walking to the hydrangeas in front of the house. The flowers were deep blue.

Of course they were. Alec had lived and loved there. She caressed the blossoms, but her hand turned to a ripping claw. Blue flew over her shoulder until she had topped both bushes. She was ankle deep in dying flowers. Fury blossomed in her chest. It felt almost erotically good, since it obliterated the pain.

Tess was in her home. She came in her bedroom. Tainted her things. Took what she had marked as hers.

She raised the bat. Her lips peeled back from her teeth and she ran, silently, toward Tess’s car.

* * *

Alec’s car was already humming when Ellie stepped in. He pulled out of the driveway with a screech.

“Easy. You’ll scare the neighbors,” Ellie said.

He changed gears, but the car didn’t respond quick enough to suit him. The gears ground hideously.

She put her hand on his. “Let me drive. I always drive.”

Without a word, he stopped and got out of the car. They changed places and she drove out of the neighborhood without a sound.

She waited until they hit the carriageway to open her mouth.

“What happened?”

He grunted. “I don’t know. Pravhati hasn’t called yet.” He checked his mobile. No one had called. He dialed the dispatcher.

“Detective Hardy?”

He didn’t mince words. “Why hasn’t Pravhati called?”

“He did not answer when I called him - he must be in the middle of an interview - but I texted him to contact you immediately.”

“I’m on my way back. Regardless, I will be taking over as soon-” His phone vibrated in his hand.”-What the hell?”

It was Daisy.

She was sobbing. “Dad! Oh God where are-” she was cut off. There was rustling as someone took her phone.

“Alec!” It was Tess.“Bloody fucking ‘ell,” she said, going into the Northern accent she reverted to only when she was truly upset. Daisy wept somewhere close and tried to take her phone back. There was a slap and a moan.  “Your crazy bitch of a girlfriend just tried to kill us both,” she said, panting into the phone. “Ruined the car, ripped out the hydrangeas and nearly took my fucking ‘ead off before I zapped her with my Taser.”

“Where is she?”

“Who the fuck cares where she is,” Tess screamed. “She was trying to kill me with a goddamn baseball bat, screaming bloody murder about taking what’s hers or some shite-”

“Mum, why were you over there today? What did you _dooo?_ ” Daisy wailed. He heard another sharp slap.

“You keep your mouth shut, young lady. And just to let you know, I’m aware what you’re up to with yer father.”

“Tess.” His voice was soft. She was still panting. “Where is Grace?”

“Grace? What a fucking irony that name is,” she said. “Jesus, _look at my car,_ ” she said in despair. “Just got it fixed, too.”

“Where is Grace?!” he screamed. Ellie gasped and drove into the breakdown lane.

She sniffed. “Where d’ye think? I tased her before she killed us both, and she passed out in our driveway. I cuffed her and called Zed. She’s been arrested, and you bet your narrow ass I’m pressing charges, so don’t start.”

“Where is she?” he asked a third time.

“Our old station,” she said.

“Dad, please come! I want to go-” His phone vibrated in his ear again. It was Pravhati.

“Grace is in Sandbrook,” he answered flatly.

“Yes, sir. The station just phoned. The damage to the apartment is minimal. Items of clothing burnt in the bathtub, and she destroyed art prints and some photos in the bedroom. There was a bloody piece of cloth - looks like a scarf, torn in half and discarded. We’re taking that in, and some blood samples from the carpet.  Other than that, nothing worthy of note.”

“Och aye?”

Tess tried to call him back, but he ignored the vibrating.

“Yes, sir. It looks like she was upset and decided to burn most of her clothes and break things.” He paused. “Do you have any idea what might’ve happened in the last 24 hours to make her behave in this fashion?”

He took a deep breath. He was getting tunnel vision. “Tell the captain I’ll be in later. I’m going to Sandbrook,” he said, and hung up.

He opened the window a crack and pushed his phone through it. Ellie drove quietly, her face pale with secondhand misery.

“Could you turn around, head north?”

“We’ve been headed that way for the last ten minutes,” she said. “We’ll be there soon enough.” The gas pedal touched the floor.


	4. Act Four, Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec rushes to Sandbrook to fetch Grace, but a number of unpleasant surprises await him at the police station - surprises that will change his perception of Grace, and his life, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am posting the following trigger warnings for this chapter, gentle readers:
> 
> Extreme angst  
> Violence  
> If you are uncomfortable with any of these things, please be careful.

She was cold.

Her whole body ached, but her chest most of all. She touched the pinpoint burns the Taser left and winced. Of course. Tess put her down like a bag of bricks.

She sighed.

She was thankful she’d let go of the bat to attack her with her bare hands before she zapped her - if not, she’d have much more than a couple of burns and some muscle aches to contend with.

She was surrounded by antiseptic white, and lying on a metal shelf. There was a heavily armored door with a small window opposite her.

She let out a rusty chuckle. Hello old friend.

She sat up and groaned. Her muscles still twitched with the electricity that had coursed through her body. Her mouth tasted like she’d licked metal. And yet, she wasn’t angry. It was just as well. She would’ve killed Tess with her bare hands if she got to her.

 _Good job, Clara,_  she thought.  _Brilliant fucking job._

Alec might’ve been confused before. Now he’d be sure.

You’re a bad news bear, little birdy, Frank’s voice echoed in her head.

“You ain’t lyin’,” she said out loud, swallowing dry. She went to the water fountain and drank. She rubbed her temples and sniffed the air. There was something off. Way beyond the obvious, but she couldn’t quite place it.

There was a boom and and grind, and a bobby opened the door.

“Doctor Grace Lastra?”

“Wha-? Oh yeah,” she said. Even her speech had changed, gone full midwestern drawl again.

“Please come with me,” he said.

She looked down at herself. “Aren’t you supposed to cuff me, kid?”

“Don’t worry about that. Come quick,” he said. He led her to an empty interrogation observation booth. She felt fear, but it faded quickly. The kid was unarmed. She could put him down in seconds.

“What are you after?” she said, leaning against the audio equipment.

He nodded toward a long box tied with a red satin ribbon. The thickest, silkiest satin. Her lips parted.

“Dress quickly. We don’t have much time.”

She read the card that was tucked underneath the bow.

> **I’m breaking you out of your life, little bird. Listen to the kid. I’ll be waiting. Daddy.**

He’d found her. Again. And this time, she knew she couldn’t just shed her skin and run. She was filled with a heady mix of fear and exhilaration as she put on the tight red silk dress he picked out for her. He liked her in red.

“You got a pen I can borrow?” she said to the policeman. He stared at her, openmouthed. She had not turned around to undress. He handed it to her.

> **Alec-**
> 
> **You were never strong enough to love me. It was a pleasant fiction. Now it’s over. Don’t look for me - Grace is dead. I killed her. C.**
> 
> **PS. Tell Daisy I’m sorry - I never meant to scare her.**

She folded the card and stuffed it into the young bobby’s pocket. “Make sure this gets to DI Alec Hardy, okay?” She traced the shell of his ear, then licked it.

He whimpered.

“What’s his name?” she said.

“D-DI Hardy,” he said.

“Good. Did he send a car?”

His brow furrowed. “He did. It’s been outside for 20 minutes.”

“Like clockwork.” She slipped on the red bottom heels that he put in the box and smiled. He remembered everything. She put her hands on her waist and smiled at him. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

He led her out of the back of the station, through the hallway where the surveillance camera had been disabled. A black Mercedes limousine sat on the curb at the end of the street.

He pointed. “Go.”

Her heart lurched. She took off her shoes and ran.

* * *

Ellie stopped in front of the police station. He ran up the steps two at a time and burst inside. People looked at him, then looked away. Tragedy was written all over his face. They hoped it wasn’t contagious.

He walked up to the first officer he saw, a young woman who had not been there when he was.

“Where is Doctor Grace Lastra?”

The woman almost screamed, but a familiar face came around and prised his hand from her elbow.

“Hardy, why haven’t you answered your bloody phone?!” Zed hissed, pulling him into his office.

He waved the comment away impatiently. “Where is Grace? I will speak for her.”

“Will ye now?” he said, loosening his tie and sipping his stewed tea. “Then you have a lot to answer for.”

He threw down some photos.

He flipped through quickly. Grace’s tub, now a burnt out crater. The wrecked bedroom. Grace’s car, a blur clocked at 200 km/hr on the carriageway near Sandbrook. Her police issue jumpsuit and cloth shoes in a messy pile in an interrogation observation booth. A long white garment box, now empty. A wrinkled ribbon, in deepest red.

“Well?”

“What is this? Where is she?”

“That’s the point. She’s gone, mate, and we don’t bloody know how.”

The young officer knocked on the office door, then cracked it. Zed waved her in. She held an envelope in her hand.

“Um, a PC left this for you. You’re DI Alec Hardy, right?”

Zed walked around his desk and snatched the envelope. “PC Ostanova, right? He’s the one on duty.”

The young woman’s eyes grew. “No. It was another man - young. Stocky. PC Wasser.”

His face screwed up. “Wasser? We don’t have a Wasser here.”

She wrung her hands. “I checked his credentials on the database. He was clean. A new hire, from London.”

Zed sat down and typed quickly on his computer. Hardy walked around slowly. His muscles were stiff, and everything was acquiring the acid colors of a nightmare.

“Nothing. There is no PC Wasser. Not now, not ever,” he said to the officer. “Arnold, how could you fuck up so abysmally?” he said, pulling his hair.

She was bold enough to pull the computer monitor around to see it.

“I swear, it was here. Police constable Nathan Wasser, 26 years of age. Graduated with honors from university and went on the Bramshill for training...” she turned the monitor around again and rubbed her face. “With all due respect, sir, do you think I’d make all that up to cover my own ass? It’s a bit specific, to say the least.”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he said.

“Call Ostanova,” Hardy said quietly, sitting down. His body ached.

“Good idea!” He dialed him on his cell and put it on speaker.

Ostanova answered almost immediately. “Sir.”

“Where are you?”

“At home, recovering from a massive booze up,” he said groaning dramatically.

“Didn’t you have the overnight shift tonight?”

“I did, but this new kid said you wanted him to take my place. For training and all. I looked him up and he checked out, so I didn’t think anymore of it.”

She gave Zed a pointed look. Ostanova may like his drinks, but he was as straight arrow as they got on the job.

Someone else looked in. “Can I have a moment, sir?”

“Sure. Why not,” he said.

The slim man was in cargo pants and a t-shirt, but his tag said he was a detective. He was part of the fledgeling IT crimes division.

“You were asking earlier how they might’ve gotten out of a police station without being seen. I think I figured it out.” He held up a USB stick. Hardy’s lip curled with displeasure. The detective stood there, posing with the drive in his gloved hand.

Zed rolled his eyes. “Get on with it, Sandburg.”

“The perpetrator plugged this baby into the mainframe, and they had access to everything.”

“But we have surveillance cameras. And an independent system - no one in, no one out. Who did the plugging?” Zed said.

“That’s the point. Once they were in, they cleaned up the evidence. They must’ve also implanted PC Wasser’s ID into the database. Easy peasy.” He looked impressed. “This wasn’t hacking, it was high art.”

He threw the drive on Zed’s desk. “You can analyze it for prints. It’s not much good for anything else.”

“What d’you mean?”

The detective made a face. “The program destroyed itself after a certain amount of time. There’s nothing left but an old episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  _Hush_. Really scary.”

“That’s why you couldn’t find Wasser in the database,” Arnold said. “Once the program was destroyed, he disappeared, with Grace in tow.”

Everyone’s eyes drifted to Hardy. Whether he realized it or not, he was now their most valuable piece of evidence.

“Dr. Lastra is just regular woman, yet she walked out of a very well-guarded police station after aggravated assault on a peace officer as if she were a royal. No one saw anything. No one heard anything. Who is she?”

* * *

Ellie finally found somewhere to park at the end of the lane. Just as she eased into the curb, her phone rang.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” she said.

“Because I’m worried. Where are you?” Mel said. There was an edge of entreaty in her voice.

She sucked her teeth. “I’m in Sandbrook.”

“What the hell are you doing all the way over there?”

“Grace is here. She’s being held for trying to assault Tess with a baseball bat.”

“Really? Grace the doctor? Impossible.”

Ellie sighed. “Maybe not Grace. But Clara...she might be capable of it.”

“Clara?”

“That drive Hardy brought back. It had all sorts of horrific little tidbits about Grace’s past in it. Awful stuff.” She bit her lip.

“So Grace is Clara?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” Ellie heard creaking. Mel must still be in bed. “I’m not getting a warm fuzzy feeling about any of this. Just come home. Please.”

“I will, soon enough. I’ll just let Hardy see Grace and we’ll be heading back.”

There was a meaningful silence. “Don’t you feel like you’ve already made it up to him for what happened?” She wasn’t referring to Joe.

“It’s not about that, Melissa. He’s my-” she couldn’t believe she was finally going to say it out loud “-best friend. He stopped me from breaking down at my absolute worst. How would it be if I decided to mind my business now?”

“I’m not trying to be a possessive twat. I just want to protect you, and something about this just doesn’t feel right.”

“I know,” she said. “I know. But I can’t leave him now. Please tell me you understand.”

“I’ll try,” Mel said. “Call me when you’re headed back. And don’t worry about the boys - I’ll send them on their way and wait for you.”

“You’re honestly the best. I love you,” Ellie said, kissing the phone.

“I love you too, button,” Mel said, and hung up.

* * *

Clara fidgeted in the limousine. She thought Frank would be waiting for her, but the cabin was empty save for a chilled bottle of Veuve Cliquot and three dozen blood-red roses. She lowered the privacy panel. The driver was a youngish blonde woman. She was extraordinarily beautiful. Clara smiled. Of course she was. Frank hand-picked her.

“Where are you taking me, love?”

“To a private airport.”

“Frank’s graduated from trains to planes,” she said, popping the bottle of champagne. “Business must be booming.” The woman gave her a mirthless look.

“It’ll only be a couple of minutes,” she said, and raised the panel. Clara smiled to herself and took a drink right out of the bottle. It was strange, how easily she could drift back into Clara. She felt like home, in a way. Fucked up beyond all recognition, but home nonetheless. She didn’t have to constantly keep her facts straight.

She wondered whether Alec already knew she was gone. She imagined his beautiful face, pale and drawn. Even if he still loves Tess, she couldn’t deny that he cared for her, and he would be hurt and shocked by what happened in the last 24 hours. She touched her bottle-cold lips. She had tasted him just 12 hours before. She still had stubble burn on her inner thighs. Pain rose up her throat and she rolled over just in time to retch into the champagne bucket.

_I am never going to see him again._

_Not after this._

_Not ever, if I want him to live_.

Her retches turned to sobs that she muffled with her trembling hands.

_Oh, Alec. I’m so sorry._

_So sorry._

_So sorry._

She stretched out on the seat and opened the sun roof. The wind roared into the cabin, mercifully banishing thought until they reached the airport. The woman opened the door for her. It was more an airstrip than an airport. The G6 engines began to scream as she walked up to the plane. The tail number was customized - BPAPA81.  She climbed the steps and there was yet another beautiful woman waiting for her in full stewardess regalia. He was an evil bastard, but he had not forgotten. She had a thing for the vintage stewardess look. The leggy brunette guided her to her seat, where another bottle waited.

“Flight time to London is 1 hour and 10 minutes,” she said, leaning over to show her an enticing bit of cleavage. Her hazel eyes seemed to swallow her. “If you need anything - anything at all - please don’t hesitate to let me know,” she said, giving her a grin that made Clara’s stomach muscles tighten.

She wasn’t cowed. She was suddenly, voraciously aroused. It was a relief from the agony. She took a deep breath to calm the beast. Still, she wouldn’t give in. Not yet.

Frank was waiting.

* * *

Ellie went into the station.

“Excuse me, miss. Do you know where I can find DI Hardy? I’m DS Ellie Miller, Broadchurch.” She flashed her badge and gave her a big smile.

The young woman - the same woman Hardy scared earlier - pointed to the captain’s office. “They’ve all been in there for the last 20 minutes.”

“Thanks,” she chirped, and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” a gruff voice yelled. The room had a tension that made her arm hairs stand on end.

Hardy stood. His pallor had only gotten worse. He turned to the red-faced man sitting at the desk. “This is my former partner, DS Ellie Miller. She drove me up from her home in Broadchurch.”

Zed stood up and shook her hand. “DS Miller, glad to meet you. Hardy tells me he was with you all evening. Is that true?”

Ellie gave Hardy a pointed look.  _What’s going on?_

He gave her a shrug and a sigh in return.  _I don’t even know anymore._

She fiddled with her shoulderbag. “Yes, he was with me and my family.  We had dinner together, then we decided he should stay over.”

“And when exactly did he decide to visit? I heard it’s not a casual drive from his home to Broadchurch,” Zed said, giving her his inscrutable detective stare.

“With all due respect, what’s going on? I’m getting the uncomfortable sensation of being interrogated.”

Hardy put his hand on her elbow.

“Grace Lastra escaped our custody an hour and 45 minutes ago.”

“Some clever fellow walked right in, hacked into our system and walked her right back out again. Clean and easy,” Sandburg said with a glee that earned him a hard stare from Zed.

Ellie looked at Hardy. He shook his head.

“Hardy was with me and my fiancee DI Melissa Angstrom all evening. If you need confirmation, I will gladly give you her mobile number.”

“Could we have a moment outside?” Hardy asked Zed. He nodded.

Ellie let Hardy walk her to the quiet corner of the bullpen before opening her mouth.

“What the fuck is going on here? Grace is gone?”

Hardy rubbed his eyes. “She’s gone. Apparently, a nonexistent PC Wasser came in, hacked himself into the system, then walked out with her.”

Ellie actually scratched her head. “And what about surveillance - good old fashioned face recognition and a ‘who the fuck are you?’”

“This is a much larger station than Broadchurch, with staff coming and going from all over Britain. It’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

“And they think you’ve got something to do with whatever the hell is going on? I’m confused,” she said, frustrated.

“It’s procedure. I saw her last.”

“It’s bollocks,” she said, hissing through her teeth. “Christ. As if you haven’t gone through enough.”

Zed walked over to them. “We just spoke to the hospital. She was at work until 12:17 am - that’s when she signed out via fingerprint. Her boss said she did not look at all distressed. In fact, she was extraordinarily chipper after a visit from you this morning.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow at Hardy.

“Yes, I visited her office this morning - yesterday morning.”

“Do you usually visit her workplace?”

“Not really. But I had something I wanted to discuss with her.”

“And what was that?”

“My daughter-”

“Daisy! How is she?” Zed interrupted. “She’s a lovely little thing.”

“She’s not so little anymore,” he said. “She’s about to start university near where we live, and she wanted to stay with Grace and I. I needed to discuss it with her before making a decision.”

“But you live together. Why didn’t you discuss it at home?”

“Daisy and I had only discussed it the previous night, at her birthday party.”

“So you were both here on Saturday?”

“Yes. At Tess’s.”

“That’s an interesting situation. Could be a bit awkward.”

Hardy gave Zed a long look. “Perhaps. But what happened before is all water under the bridge.”

“Right, but we all know about Tess’s temper. There was no situation, no drama between her and Grace?”

“Nothing outside of the ordinary,” he said, knowing it would pique Zed’s curiosity.

“And what is the ordinary?”

“I can only state what Grace confided to me after the fact. I wasn’t around them to hear the exchange.”

He walked Hardy back to the office and pointed to a chair. “What did Grace confide?”

“Tess told her I was cold. Selfish. And that, perhaps, she would never be happy with me.” He scratched at his stubble. “I feel there is more she did not tell me, though. Secrets between women and that.”

Zed bit his tongue. “I don’t know, Hardy. She was at Tess’s house, ready to take her head off. Had she shown any signs of explosive anger before?”

“That’s the thing. _No_. Not at all.”

Arnold came in with a clear evidence pouch. “We’re getting this tested, but it’s most probably just her blood on it,” she said.

Zed pulled the bag closer. “This is Tess’s scarf.”

“Her good scarf,” Arnold said. “Grace had it wrapped around her injured hand when she arrived at Tess’s.”

“So she already had it? How? We all know we’d have to pry that thing from her cold dead hands. She got it in Paris, or so she said every single bloody time she wore it,” Zed said.

Realization started to dawn in Hardy’s exhausted brain. And close behind it, anger.

“Tess was at my flat yesterday afternoon. She said she needed to speak with me.”

“She drove all the way to Wessex for a chat? Weren’t you at her house just the day before?”

“That’s exactly what I thought. She wanted to give me something.” His heart pounded as he went into his pocket for the drive. He handed it to Zed. “It’s research about Grace - who she was before she changed her identity.”

“Holy shit, Hardy, why didn’t you say anything before!”

“Because even I haven’t had the opportunity to go through all of it. In any case, it’s yours. But I suggest you call Tess in. She deliberate left that scarf in Grace’s bedroom with the intention of upsetting her.”

“What was she doing in Grace’s bedroom?”

“She followed me when I went into the bedroom to change my trousers.” He took a deep breath, then decided to continue. “Grace and I had a bit of a...sexual interlude in her office. They were stained. Tess assumed something else.”

“What?” Zed remained poker faced.

“That I had been cheating.” He waved the idea away. “This is not nearly as important as the fact that she casually dropped a scarf that both you and Arnold stated she treasured. It was a deliberate act, and Grace must’ve made the incorrect assumption that I invited Tess into our bedroom.”

Hardy’s face pinched with despair.  _Shit_.

“So, basically, it was a jealous lover’s row that took a seriously odd turn.”

“Call her in, Zed. Ask her what happened.”

Just then, they heard a familiar voice yelling in the bullpen.

Zed ran his fingers through his hair. “She’s here.”

She burst into Zed’s office. They both stood up. Her wavy hair was frizzy, her tanned cheeks red with anger.

“Zed, my home’s a mess, my car’s fucked and my daughter’s in hysterics, but I’m here,” she said, pulling off her trench coat. She was still in her pyjamas. “I don’t even know why you need me, Arnold’s already taken my statement.”

Her eyes drifted to Hardy, and her face changed from harried to furious. She stalked to him, and Zed pulled her back before she had an opportunity to slap him.

“You! You brought that crazy slag into my home! Did you know she ripped up my hydrangeas? All of them. And she tried to kill me!”

Zed wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Tess, please calm down. As the Americans say, keep your nose clean.” She gave him an irritated look, but stopped struggling. “Hardy, do you mind giving us a moment?”

He walked out without a word.

She sat down. “What’s going on? This place is in an uproar.”

“Grace Lastra is gone. She walked right out, with the help of a hacker.”

“No way. She’s just a silly whore.”

Zed slammed his hand down on the desk, making her jump. “Tess, could you please stop saying that?”

“What? Whore? It’s was she is, not a moral judgment.”

He pushed the evidence pouch toward her. “It looks like you forget something in her bedroom yesterday.”

She sighed.

“We don’t have much time. What happened at Daisy’s party on Saturday? Let’s start from there.”

She leaned forward. “You know what? Let’s start much earlier. When he first told me he was moving in with that woman. Hardy didn’t tell me, Daisy did, but still. From that day, I knew there was something off about her.”

“Like what?”

She shrugged. “At the time, I couldn’t say. It was just instinct.”

She pointed to her mug shot, which was still on Zed’s screen. Her hair was stringy, her cheeks pale, but she was still beautiful. Very beautiful.

“Look at her. She could’ve gone to London and been the mistress of a lord or two, but instead, she ends up in Wessex, installing pacemakers. Unh unh. Women who look like that don’t work. They get taken care of.”

She walked around and sat on Zed’s desk. “Secondly, she was too nice. We met, and just two hours later she was willing to shell out 800 quid to replace my transmission. A cash gift, she said, not a loan. Naturally, Hardy barked at the idea, but she told ‘im it her was her money, and she wanted to help Daisy and I. ‘Solidarity among women’, she said.” She harrumphed.

“Then why did you accept it?”

“Because I was sick of taking the bus to work. And it was true. The car was towed and fixed, and I never saw a bill. She didn’t mention it again.”

“She sounds a right slapper,” he said sarcastically.

“That’s the point. Women like that aren’t nice. They’re occasionally magnanimous to give themselves some depth, but never kind.” Her face screwed up. “And most glaring of all, they don’t fall in love with men like Alec Hardy.”

Zed gave her a long look.

“And when did you start compiling this?” he asked, holding up the USB stick.

“After the transmission. I was curious. It turns out my instincts were right.”

“Why didn’t you tell Hardy your concerns?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know Hardy. Do you think he would’ve heard a word I said without proof?”

He nodded. “If we get back on task, all of this started at Daisy’s birthday party.”

Tess pointed to his cell phone. “You should record this. I don’t want to say it again.”

Zed spoke the appropriate words into the phone and started the formal interview.

“Tell me what happened at Daisy’s party.”

“I waited until Hardy was distracted, and I started to make increasingly derogatory comments about him.”

“Why?”

She sighed. “I wanted to see how deep her loyalty lay. Whether she would snicker, agree, or become angry and tell me off.”

“And, just for the record, at this time you had already compiled the information that you gave Hardy?

“Yes. I had already known about Grace’s past for weeks.”

“And why did you not inform Hardy previously about Grace Lastra’s past?”

“Because without any physical proof of her volatility, he would’ve made excuses for her. We have too much baggage.”

“He stated earlier that what happened between you and him was water under the bridge.”

She sniggered. “Sure. But he still would not have listened. He’s too besotted. With ass like that, who could blame him?”

“Please refrain from being crass,” Zed said.

“I apologize. In any case, I said increasingly distressing things, trying to get a rise out of her - catch a glimpse of the old her - but she did not react like I had imagined. She just asked me whether I missed him.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told her in no uncertain terms that I did not. She became visibly agitated, but she did not lash out verbally or physically.”

“Why didn’t you give Hardy the drive that night?”

“After my failed experiment, I needed a little time to figure out how to get her to show her true colors. Apparently, she wasn’t going to react in my home. But maybe, if I went to hers…”

“So you went to visit detective Hardy in their home yesterday afternoon?”

“I did.”

“He stated that you followed him into his and Grace’s bedroom, where you planted the scarf. He also mentioned you accused him of cheating.”

She waved her hand dismissively just like Hardy had. “That was a bit of spur of the moment silliness to distract him from the scarf.”

“And what made you believe he wouldn’t find it first?”

“Because he would not be able to resist looking in the drive just as soon as I left. His natural suspiciousness about human nature would vindicate me.”

His computer screen flashed, and Grace’s mugshot disappeared.

“That’s strange,” he said, leaning forward and tapping on the keys. The computer seemed perfectly functional. “Pause interview,” he said into the phone, then turned off record. He typed  _Lastra, Grace_  into the search bar.

NOT FOUND

He refreshed the screen, signed in and did it again.

NOT FOUND.

“What the bloody hell-”

Sandburg burst into his office. “Did you see it, boss? It looks like the drive was a little bit more than a back door. Grace is gone!”

“Shit,” Zed and Tess said in unison.

* * *

The jet landed in London with a jolt that woke her. She sat up and yawned hard enough to make her jaw click.

She couldn’t believe she had been able to sleep.

_Alec. My Alec._

_Oh God._

Her face pinched with pain, and she put her hand to her chest.

The stewardess stepped forward. “Are you okay, Clara?”

“I’m fine, honey. Just a bit hungry,” she said, giving her a toothy grin. The girl blushed, then prepared to open the door.

She stepped out and into the sunrise, but its beauty just made her nauseous. Yet another shiny black limousine waited on the tarmac. Her heart raced.

Was it Frank?

But this time, a beautiful man stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the door to an empty car.

“Doctor Lazone anxiously awaits your return,” he said, flashing a too-white smile at her. He smelled of expensive cologne and new clothes. She wondered whether Frank had gone bi.

They wove through the already hectic morning streets of London, and she settled into an unearthly calm. However much she loved her, Grace was dead. Soon, she would be with Frank again. Every kindness he had ever extended her came back. As well as every punch. Every kick, every cruel act he sugarcoated with his pointless reasons why. And yet, her eyes were still rimmed with bittersweet tears. She was, after nearly four years, going to see him again. He was a monster, but he was the only home she had ever known. She wiped her eyes and went into her bag to do what she could with her face. She carefully reapplied her lipstick, and smudged kohl around her black eyes, making them look onyx glossy. She flipped her hair over and fluffed it. He liked the freshly fucked look.

The limo stopped in front of a nondescript building by the Thames. She couldn’t tell quite where she was, but then again, it didn’t matter. The places he chose were meant to blend in. Back when they had first married, they lived in a small split level in a working poor Ohio neighborhood. He had millions secreted away back then. Now, ever since Carlos, who could tell? That jet didn’t pay for itself.

The driver gave her such an indulgent look it made her uncomfortable.

“Christ, she does look just like you,” he said as he guided her to a steel door. She took a deep breath as the locks clicked. They didn’t have to knock - there were cameras everywhere. A tall, dark woman led them through a cafeteria kitchen. As they got closer, music began to make the stainless steel amenities vibrate. The woman took a hard right before they hit the main floor, then up a narrow flight of stairs. Her chest tightened, and tears burned in her eyes again.

Finally, he was near. She could feel him. He was a steady vibration way underneath the bass that made the walls shake. Up they went, and then around the corner to stop in front of another steel door. It clicked open.

The woman turned to her. “We’re glad you’re back, madame,” she said in a silky north african accent. She waved her hand gracefully. “He’s waiting for you.”

She nodded and stepped confidently into the dark. There was a narrow room whose ceiling was obscured by cigarette smoke. She walked to the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. The main floor of the pop up club writhed beneath her. At this height, all she saw was glistening bodies, leather and wood and silk. The scent mixed with the smoke and nostalgia hardened her nipples. The ache made her wet, an unconscious reaction.

“Clara…” He squeezed her shoulder. “My little bird flew home.”

Tears dripped down her face, and she fell to her knees. Sobs wracked her body. She wrapped her arms around his waist and wept into him.

“Frank? Oh, Frank!” the word turned to a keening, pitiful wail.

He hardened underneath her trembling cheek, and she reacted to his arousal. Her mouth watered and she unbuckled his belt quickly. He lifted her up to look at her. His hazel eyes were still just as fathomless, but his brown hair had gone a glossy silver that made her gasp.

He smiled at her. He smelled of cigarettes and vetiver, a scent that made her weak in the knees. His hand moved down her back to her ass. He squeezed.

“Just as firm as when I first had you,” he growled, and licked the tears from her cheeks. “Welcome home, honey.”

* * *

Hardy and Ellie sat quietly. Ellie knew not to interrupt his train of thought, but something caught her eye. There was a folded envelope stuffed into his pants pocket.

“What’s this?” she said, taking it and smoothing it on her leg.

“Grace left me a note,” he said, his eyes shining. “With all that’s happened, it slipped my mind.” He took it back and ripped open the end of the envelope. He stuck his finger in it but felt nothing.

“Here, let me have a go,” Ellie said. She ripped it in half, and the small card drifted to the floor. She picked it up and handed it to him, but leaned in close to have a peek.

They looked at each other. “I’m breaking you out of your life,  _little bird_?” she read out loud.

“Daddy,” he said. “ _Daddy?_ ”

“Is that Frank?” Ellie said. “Ugh. Gives me the heebie jeebies.” She shivered with revulsion.

“Why do you think she left me this?” he said.

“Obviously, to let you know Frank was the one who broke her out. You should definitely show this to-”

He flipped the card around to a more familiar script. As he read, his face fell. The card slipped out of his hand, and he went a dangerous shade of grey.

“Jesus, Hardy, what’s the matter?” She ignored the card and slapped his face. His eyes were glassy, and she could see every freckle on his face clearly.

Oh no, not again.

“God damnit! Help! Hardy’s ill! Someone please call an ambulance!” she yelled in dismay as he lolled out of his seat. People ran toward them from everywhere, and in the melee to stabilize him the card ended up stuck underneath a PC’s boot.

Soon, the ambulance drove around and paramedics brought a gurney.

“We need to get him to the hospital right away,” she said. Ellie and the PC ran alongside as they wheeled him to the front of the station and down the steps in a cold morning rain.

“Who are you?” one of them said.

“His partner,” she said. “I’m going with him.” She got into the ambulance and took his hand.

She waved at the PC who had helped them before the paramedics arrived. “Thank you,” she said and they slammed the doors.

They drove away, and the PC wiped his hands on his pants and walked back into the station. The card stuck underneath his boot came loose in the gutter, was carried away by a brisk current and disappeared into a catch basin.

* * *

Frank walked her to a black leather sofa and took her into his lap, letting her cry out her excitement. The irritation he felt at her infidelity melted into deepest affection. She was back, and she wept hard enough to shake his bones with relief and love.

Although he had planned to make her suffer before forgiving her, he decided against it. She had suffered enough with that awful bobby.

 _He couldn’t fuck to save his life_ , he thought as he caressed the hair out of her tear-wet face.  _Dog-faced bastard._  Her face was streaked with grey, and her painted lips were smeared suggestively. He began to harden in earnest.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed into her head as his hand went underneath her dress. She was jungle wet and ready, as she ever was. Only for him. He had trained her for years, made her this way, and no dalliance with an awkward Scot could erase him from her muscle memory.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her legs to give him room.

“How long has it been since a man treated you the way you deserve?” he asked her. His fingers parted her lips and went inside her. Her brow furrowed with pain, but she quickly slicked him to the wrist. His thumb went into her ass, and her eyelids drooped with lust.

“Too long,” she said, grinding into him.

“Then you won’t have to wait another second.” He put a mask over the top part of his face, something that made her sweat with recognition. As if on cue, someone walked out of the shadows with a camera.

He pulled her close to his chest, and spread her legs wide. The camera lens focused and moved up her thighs, to the slick darkness in between, where his fingers still moved quickly.

“No girl has made love to the camera the way you do,” he said. “And I’ve searched everywhere.” His hand moved to the bodice of her dress. His strong hands gripped and tore the fabric. She moaned at the satisfying sound of cloth ripping. She was nude and sweating for an invisible audience.

He poured oil on her body and rubbed it into her skin. She glistened red in the low light. The oil dripped between her ass cheeks.

“How long has it been?” he whispered in her ear as he pressed another finger into her ass.

“Not since you,” she said, leaning forward.

“Then this might hurt,” he said, and pressed the head of his cock into her ass. She looked up toward the swirling smoke and concentrated as he slid slowly, painfully, into her. Her body swallowed him whole, and he squeezed her inner thighs tight and began to pound into her, knowing she could take it. Although the pain made her groan, she still dripped to the leather. The camera zoomed in on her flexing, flat belly and her wetness, which was temptingly unfilled.

A young woman crawled into frame, her long, dark hair grazing the floor. Clara looked down and gasped. He chuckled in her ear and pumped into her faster, eliciting a squeal.

She looked just like her. In fact, they could almost be twins. She moved between her legs and caressed from her knees to her thighs.

“Lick her,” he said.

She bit her thighs, then licked them clean, being sure to kneel at an angle so the camera could catch everything. When her tongue lapped between her legs, he took her by the hair and pressed her face into Clara’s pussy.

“Eat it like you mean it!” he said, and soon her head bobbed as she tongue fucked her. Clara was overwhelmed with sensation. His rusty chuckle seemed to echo throughout the whole of the building. She wrapped her arm around his neck and rode him, rolling her hips just so, her eyes looking in his. His smile turned to a frown.

It had been years, but she knew exactly what to do to make him come whenever she wanted. It angered him. He bucked her off. His hand was an eye-watering fist in Clara’s hair that made her slide to her knees in front of him. He stood, his oily cock sticking out of the fly of his pants. The other girl grabbed him and went to lick him clean, but he slapped her mouth.

“Oh no, darling. Birdie gets first dibs. Always.”

Clara turned to her and caressed her bruised mouth with the pad of her thumb, then sucked it. The girl tasted like raspberries. “Get on your back, between my legs. Now.”

She obeyed quickly. Clara jerked him off with both hands and licked his balls clean as she got situated. She sat on her face and moaned as the girl swirled her tongue between her folds.

“You trained her well, Daddy,” she said as she expertly squeezed up his shaft, cleaning him.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said and shoved himself in her mouth deep enough to make her curl into herself. “Use your tongue.”

He thrust into her mouth relentlessly, making thick spittle drip from her chin and into the other girl’s hair. Clara rode the girl’s face, and dots began to dance in her vision as she ran out of air. It had been a long time since she’d had this kind of orgasm.

The choking kind.

The girl’s nose cartilage clicked on her mound but she ground into her hard. The pleasure licked like flame from between her legs and up her spine. She was lightheaded. Frank’s cock thrust into the back of her throat but she was beyond gag reflex and greedy. Her hands turned to claws on his hips

[too broad his hips not like Alec’s]

She groaned into him, and fresh tears wet her cheeks. Shame made the girl between her legs cough. She was drowning. Her mind wandered. With Alec it was always day. Warmth, sunshine. It was a dream she didn’t want to wake from. Ever. Yet here she was.

He tugged at her hair viciously.

“You’re mine forever this time, Birdie,” he said. It felt like he would rip her hair out, but her pussy twitched in warning on the girl’s tongue. “This time, you won’t want to run.” It was a whisper.

He came deep in her throat, and again, muscle memory betrayed her. She grunted into his flesh and wet the girl’s face with her orgasm. He slid out of her mouth slowly, and Clara, her hips still bucking, scooted down and bent to share him with her.

They kissed for the first time with Frank on Clara’s tongue, but her taste galvanized her. She had resisted the driver and the stewardess, but she was obviously a gift from Frank. Clara’s hand went between her legs and she was dripping to her knees. She cooed and slid three fingers into her and kneaded the sweet girl’s g-spot, sucking hard on her clit until she came.

“That was beautiful,” he said.

The girl gave her a dazed smile. Clara kissed the sweat and saliva from her brow. It was odd, though. She was almost looking into her own eyes.

The camera disappeared from where it came from, and he took off his mask and patted his lap. The girl knew better than to move. Clara climbed on.

He wiped at her oily chin. “You filthy whore.”

“But only yours,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder to hide her face. The words caught in her throat. Her eyes felt sandy with tears.

“You bet your sweet ass,” he said, slapping her there, then squeezing again. He groaned. “You know there’s no escaping this time, right? I’m not chasing you all over creation and fixing your mistakes anymore.”

Her head shot up and she gazed at him intensely. “What do you mean?”

He gave her a one-sided grin. “Your memory temporary fucked? I just pulled beaucoup strings to get you outta jail. I made it so you just… disappeared into the ether.” He wiggled his fingers in front of her. “Grace is history.”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she said, pressing her face into his neck. She swallowed hard. “And that’s all, right?” She kissed his smooth cheek. “It’s over now. I’m here with you, and that’s all that matters.” Her hand was a fist on his shirt, clinging.

He made a high pitched sound deep in his throat. “Not exactly,” he said. He took her face in his hands. His pinkie ring was cold on her cheek, a bizarre sensation. “You really fucked up this time.”

She blinked tears from her eyes.

“Uh huh. You started boning a cop. What on God’s green earth made you do something stupid like that?”

“He was, um, he’s not- he won’t get in our way. I left him a note. I told him I didn’t want him anymore, that I loved you.”

He nodded indulgently. “Considering how you disappeared, do you think he’s gonna let it go? After his clever ex-wife spilled every drop of tea about us?”

She straightened up and pulled his hands from her face. “What d’you mean?”

He pulled her from his lap and went to pour himself a drink. Clara patted her lap, and the girl sat beside her and put her head there. She scratched the girl’s scalp and kissed her temple. It was nice to have a pet again, but her heart ached.

Oh god. Not Alec.

“T. Henchard. What kind of woman is she?”

She sighed with relief. “A bitch. Why?”

“She found us, honey. She knows all sorts of things about you, and I, and Carlos...” he said.

“How do you know?”

“When it comes to you, Birdie, I’m god. I know everything.” He sat beside her and pulled her close.

She dismissed it as hyperbole and moved on. “What are you going to do, then?” she said calmly.

He rolled his eyes. “Do you think I’m stupid? Of course I’m not going to kill her,” he said.

“Of course not,” she said. Her eyes didn’t leave his face.

“Anyway, I have a far better plan. Something to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak,” he said, giggling. He picked up his phone and dialed someone. “Is the club empty?”

“Yes, sir,” a male voice replied.

“Good,” he said, and hung up.

“Zoraida, ven aca,” he said to the girl on Clara’s lap. The girl crawled up to him and put her head on his lap. He caressed her lovingly. “It took me over two years, a thousand pairs of eyes and millions of dollars to dig up this miracle,” he said. “We found her in a hostess bar in Santiago de Chile. A desperately poor, orphaned creature. It took nothing to entice her.” He took her face in his hands. She smiled up at him.

“She doesn’t know a word of English, either. It’s nice. All head. No lip,” he said.

Clara didn’t laugh.

“So, does she pass muster?” he said, pulling her to standing. He nodded at her to stand beside her. It made her skin crawl. They were the same height, the same weight. Their hair was even the same length, although it could be extensions. Her liquid dark eyes looked into Clara’s, taking her breath away. She was lovely.

“Why?” Clara asked. “Did you miss me that much?”

“No, not really,” he said, pulling her aside. His arm swung smoothly up toward the girl’s head. He was holding a gun with a silencer. “But needs must.”

The gun went off. Blood spattered on her naked body, and the girl crumbled to the floor. Her screams rang in the empty warehouse. He took her in his arms and squeezed until her bones creaked. She fought against him, but he punched her once, hard, in the jaw. Stars danced behind her closed eyelids. She stopped moving.

“You need to calm down now, because I need your help.” 

She shivered with anxiety and horror.

“We are going to remove her head and her hands and feet and burn the remains and leave them to be found.”

Her terror-stricken eyes rolled to meet his gaze.

“People saw you come to this place, and once this is over, they will say so. You will be found murdered, maimed, and burned. A sad, sad loss. Boohoo.” He pouted. “But that will be it. Grace is dead, at the hand of awful, awful people.”

He let her go. She tried to wipe the girl’s blood from her skin, but it was nearly dry, and impossible. She began to groan low in her throat. Frank had changed. And she would have to adjust to survive.

“Your sad little cop will mourn you, put cheap flowers in your grave, and leave you and the skeletons in your closet be.”

She hiccupped a sob. He stood up, stepped over the girl’s bleeding body, and hugged her.

“But this way-” she tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he held on, vise-tight, “-this way, he doesn’t have to die.”

She stopped struggling.

“You’re poison, Birdie,” he whispered in her ear. “You knew that the day you first sucked his limp cock. But he’s a bumbling asshole, so I’ve decided I’ll let him live. For now.”

“Do you promise?” It came out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“I don’t make promises, Birdie. If he stays out of our way, he will live. If he doesn’t, he will die.” He kicked the girl’s body so she lay on her back. “But, for now, I need your assistance cutting apart this body, doctor.” He picked up a large black medical bag from beside the sofa and pulled out a saw. “After all, you’re the surgeon.”

* * *

 

Hardy tugged on his hospital gown. He tapped on his naked face.

“Where are my glasses?”

“On the table,” Ellie said.

He sighed. His muscles ached and his head felt light, as if he’d run a marathon. 

“What happened?” He cleared his throat. Ellie had dark smudges under her eyes. She sat down on the bed by him. “By the way, thank you,” he said. He squeezed her hand.

She held it. He was trembling with anxiety. “I spoke to Melissa a bit ago. The kids have come home from school and had their tea.”

He tried to sit up. “Jesus, where did the day go? I’ve been asleep that long?” He tried to get up, but she very firmly pushed his legs back under the covers.

“You needed your rest. The doctor will be here any second now that you’re awake,” she said. She gave him a long, meaningful look. Her big brown eyes were wet with emotion.

“What’s the matter, Miller?” he said. Discomfort crawled up his spine.

She gave him an overly cheery grin. “Just tired, boss,” she said. “You’re the one who got eight hours’ sleep.”

“I’ve been out for eight hours?!” Again, he tried to get out of bed. And again, Ellie pushed his legs underneath the covers.

“Doctor’s orders.” She looked at the door. Her hands were fists on her knees. His chest felt tight.

“Has there been any breakthrough with Grace? Anyone figure out where she went?”

She gave him an inscrutable look. Her lips parted, but then the doctor swept in. She looked relieved.

“Detective Hardy, how are you feeling?” the young man said, giving him a toothy grin.

“Fine. I need to get out of here.” He sat up.

“We ran some cursory tests, but it looks like you fainted from dehydration and lack of sleep and not a malfunction of your pacemaker, Mr. Hardy. When was the last time you ate something?”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t know. Yesterday, maybe? I had a cup of tea. And wine.”

“Although you feel much better, you are still convalescing from your previous condition, Mr. Hardy. You’ve got to eat well, and drink lots of water,” the doctor said, flipping his chart shut. “We gave you something to help you sleep. Are you feeling better?”

“Brilliant,” he said, stepping barefoot on the floor. “Can I go now?”

“The nurse will be by with your release papers. Please take care of yourself, detective.” he said, extending his hand for a shake. Hardy stared at it, then shook it.

Ellie took his clothes out of a cabinet by the door and handed them to him reluctantly.

“We need to get back to the station as soon as possible. I need to talk to Zed, see whether he found any clues in the drive,” he said. He held the back of his gown closed and went into the bathroom.

“Hardy, there won’t be-” Her voice was cut off as he closed the bathroom door.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes glowed in the pale skin surrounding them.

**Never strong enough.**

The words were a lance to his heart. His knuckles whitened on the edge of the sink.

**A pleasant fiction.**

He had opened his heart to her. Given her all, and a little bit he didn’t even know he had. How could she say such a thing? He could still taste the fervor of her kisses, her heat. He had tasted her sincerity. No woman can fake that...can they?

Tears dripped out of his eyes and into the bowl.

**Breaking you out of your life, little bird.**

The motherfucking ghost in the banquet. He wondered how he knew that she was taken into custody so quickly. Despite his agony, his brain clicked with ideas.

Was her sudden, uncharacteristic aggression part of the plan all along? Had she...conspired with him?

He thought of their morning - her words, and what happened after. Perhaps the talk of children and the sex been a distraction. His mouth watered with the remembered taste of her.

It couldn’t be.

Daisy’s voice rang in his thoughts. _Even I know, love is blind._

He clenched his jaw and groaned.

Ellie knocked. “You okay in there, Hardy?”

“Fine,” he said. He took off his gown and dressed quickly. Grace had not deceived him. There had to be a rational explanation for all of this, and he would find it. He walked out, fixing his tie. “Has the nurse been by?”

She held up the papers, then put them in her pocket. “Hardy, I need to tell you something.”

He scratched at his beard. “What is it?”

She pointed to the bed. “I think you should sit down. Tess and the captain will be by in a minute.”

That same crippling discomfort made his chest tight. She looked on the verge of tears.

“What is it, Miller?”

Zed walked in, hands stuffed in his pockets, followed by Tess. She was horribly pale. Without speaking, they arranged themselves around him in a protective circle. He began to feel lightheaded again.

The first tear dripped down Ellie’s face, closely followed by two more. She did not wipe them. Tess looked small, deflated. Zed stepped forward.

“Hardy, while you were asleep, we received some news from the London wire-”

“London? Stop all this. I’d like to get out of here-”

Both Ellie and Tess put steadying hands on him. He eyed them with irritation, but they held on.

“Stop this nonsense. Millar, we need to get going.”

Ellie shook her head slowly. She looked at Zed and nodded.

He started again. “We put feelers out about Grace, and about two hours ago we got a preliminary report from London-”

“What the hell does London have to do with me?” He was spinning out. Tess, in an extremely rare show of sympathy, squeezed his shoulder.

“Alec, let him finish. Please.”

Her kindness made him ill.

Zed powered through. “There was a fire in an abandoned warehouse by the Thames. The fire brigade did a standard sweep - looking for squatters and the like - and they found something.”

“And?!” Hardy’s  eyes bulged out of their sockets.

“They believe they found the charred remains of one Grace Lastra, with her-”

“No. No,  _no no no_ …” he tore from their grip and began to pace the room. Zed’s voice droned on.

“-with her hands, feet, and head removed. Head was found later in a steel drum by the-

“Jesus Christ, Zed, stop!” Tess said.

Ellie tried to grab at Hardy, but he ran out of the room. He bumped blindly into nurses and patients alike, chasing sunlight. He burst through the doors.

It was pouring.

The rain was needles on his flesh but he welcomed the pain, knowing soon he would be too numb with cold to feel it. He opened his mouth, let the rain fill it, then swallowed. It tasted metallic as blood.

Ellie ran to him, her bright orange coat hurt his eyes in all the gray. She hugged him tight, her body vibrating with sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Hardy. So, so sorry,” she said, but in the roar of the storm, her voice was distant, unimportant. He was beyond tears. Horror made his belly tight. His eyes widened with the enormity of it.

Grace was dead. And he had killed her.


End file.
